The Other Lannister Sister
by Silent Wolf Singer
Summary: Many years after the death of his wife Lady Joanna, Tywin Lannister remarried to Lady Anne of House Serrett who provided him two more children. Lynette Lannister shall tell you her side of the story during Game of Thrones. As the Other Lannister Sister. P.S. Tybalt will pop up now and then too.
1. Chapter 1: The Peacock and the Lion

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52**_

_**Summary: Many years after the death of his wife Lady Joanna, Tywin Lannister remarried to Lady Anne of House Serrett who provided him two more children. Lynette Lannister shall tell you her side of the story during Game of Thrones. As the Other Lannister Sister.**_

_**P.S. Tybalt will pop up now and then too.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones**_

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**Chapter 1: The Peacock and the Lion**

Tywin entered the solar lounge of Casterly Rock, seeing his wife and two youngest children enjoying their company. As Lady Anne sat by the fireplace doing her daily needlework. She looked up to him with hazel eyes giving an acknowledgeable glance before returning to her sewing.

Lady Anne, a gentle woman with a determined mind when it comes to duty and honor. As her maiden house motto was 'I Have No Rival.' House Serrett from Silverhill, is one of the principal houses sworn to House Lannister. One of the ancient houses that were founded since the Andal Invasion, however, they also have the blood of the First Men in their veins. Their sigil was a peacock in his pride, on a cream field. A family with riches of silver and craftsman. How they don't have rivals is simple in two ways: by forging alliances through marriage or killing their rivals before they attacked. One example would be the Serrett marrying into the Harlows, an Ironborn when it comes to peaceful terms.

The Great Lion knew the capability of what House Serrett can do, remembering the previous Lord supporting him at the end of Castamere. Since House Reyne insulted more than the Golden Lions. Even the Lord had offered a marital alliance, keeping the offer to which Tywin accepted when witnessing the progress of his children. Most importantly, the security of his legacy as the struggle was severe with Cersei's potential betrothal with Prince Rhaegar, Jaime advanced his skills into knighthood, and Tyrion…he refused to think much of an accomplishment other than dwarf's intelligence. However, Tywin, not trusting the Mad King, wanted to secure his line. Unfortunately, it came true when the Mad King drafted his prized son Jaime to be a member of the King's Guard. Leaving his disfigured son Tyrion as the heir. Tywin wouldn't have it and remarried. Before the event occurred, he wed Lady Anne, who was in her twenties.

Lady Anne, the youngest child of Lord Serrett, arrived at Casterly Rock. She was a fair beauty with long brunette hair and hazel eyes. Dressed in the colors of her house coat of arms of green, blue, and accents of gold. She was nervous at first, as should be expected, but Lady Anne learned. She tried to be a good stepmother to Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion. Although Cersei considers the woman an outsider, yet Lady Anne merely smiles and gave a look that would rival the lioness's glare. Tyrion, she gave her respect despite his proportion.

It wasn't long before Lady Anne gave birth to Tywin's fourth child. A girl, with blonde hair and hazel eyes that were close to being green. Tywin named the child Lynette, meaning Little Lion. A few years later a son was born, which he was named Tybalt, meaning People Bold. As the boy was a true Lannister in golden hair and green eyes. There were other attempts over time, which ended in miscarriages or infancy. Yet Lynette and Tybalt were strong, healthy children growing up.

Lynette was only two years old when Robert's Rebellion happened. And when Tywin returned after marrying Cersei off to King Robert, he was blessed with a son. The Great Lion looked around seeing his youngest daughter sitting by the solar lounge, playing her harp of _the Rains of Castamere,_ although the tune was not as threatening as his envoys' gitterns to send a threatening message to the lower houses who dare to challenge them. Meanwhile, Tybalt sat in a chair reading a book. Squinting his eyes, seeing the title was on histories of war. Tywin mentally nodded in approval. One of his children was absent, his lowborn son, Tyrion, who was invited to join the King's company to the North and expedition to see the Wall.

The news came like lightning of the death of Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King. Sickness burned the respected Lord from the inside. Several months ago, King Robert was traveling north with his Company to Winterfell to ask Ned Stark to be Hand of the King. Along with the royal family, members of the King's Guard and members of the court. Tywin had doubted the Quiet Wolf would accept such a position. Tywin knew of the responsibility as he was the Hand of the King to Aerys the Second for nineteen years. He'd once been friends with the Mad King, but the friendship diminished when Joanna was being persuaded and insulted. The final straw was the comment after his late wife's death from childbirth and the monster that was born to teach him humility. Surprisingly Ned Stark took the position and was bringing his two daughters with him.

He stared at Lynette, noting her twentieth name day has passed. She has been of age to marry for several years now, the reason for the delay is because of Lady Anne's request to wait until their daughter is at a safe age to bear children. Cersei was nineteen when married, so it was time for Lynette to wed.

The Lord of Casterly Rock has been evaluating candidates to marry the Little Lion of Casterly Rock. Being from a great house, it is expected to match her with other Lords from Great Houses. Current bachelors were Lord Renly Baratheon, King Robert's youngest brother. Edmure Tully, the son of Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun, had offered a marital proposal. Then there was Ser Loras, the son of Lord Mace Tyrell of Highgarden.

There were four other bachelors from great houses he refused either because of the House or the age or rivalry. Prince Trystane of House Martell and Robbin Arryn of the Vale were children. If not, what happened to Elia Martell and her children left a rift. Which Tyrion played strategic decision to earn Robert's trust. Theon Greyjoy, son of Lord Balon, was a definite no since the Greyjoys attacked Lannisport to start their rebellion. As for House Stark, though the eldest son Robb Stark was near age to Lynette, he will not lower the lion's pride to that of a wolf. So far, he was considering making the match with Renly, the Master of Law, and Lord of Storm's End. He sent a raven to Cersei to convince King Robert on the match.

By the end of the year, the marriage should be settled, securing House Baratheon to House Lannister. Mentally nodding to the idea, he came over to the window to stand by his daughter, who played another soothing song. Watching her fingers pull the string gracefully, skilled to that of a trained archer. The past eighteen years after the war, Casterly Rock has been at peace. Then again, after sacking King's Landing during the rebellion, no one dared to challenge House Lannister.

Time seemed to pass in their solitude when Maester Creylen knocked on the door and entered.

"A raven arrived from the Riverlands, my lord," Maester Creylen announced handing a raven scroll.

Opening the raven scroll, Tywin read the message and scowled.

"What is it, Father?" Tybalt asked.

"Tyrion has been taken by Catelyn Stark," Tywin said lowly.

"On what grounds?" Lady Anne asked.

"She is accusing Tyrion to have a part in her son's accident and hiring an assassin to kill the boy."

"Ridiculous," Lynette said. "Tyrion wouldn't dare harm a child."

Tywin wasn't sure about that, but he will not tolerate having his family be accused of such a crime and be taken as such. Tyrion was a Lannister, and the lion doesn't fall amongst the sheep. Not even a fish.

"Maester Creylen, call the banners," Tywin ordered.

"At once, my lord," Maester Creylen said with a bow and left.

"Where will you be going too?" Lady Anne asked.

"To the Riverlands," Tywin told his wife and looked at his son.

Tybalt was almost seventeen years old. All his life, Tywin raised him to be the next general. Never a knight knowing what happens when a Highborn Son trains to be a knight. The boy is a master of swords and archery.

"It's time you learn the art of war instead of reading it," Tywin said.

"Yes, father," Tybalt complied, a hint of excitement glimmer in his eyes.

Tywin nodded.

"Then I will make sure your things are packed accordingly," Lady Anne said. "Come, Lynette, let's make an arrangement while the men prepare for battle."

"Yes, Mother," Lynette said, glancing at her father and brother before joining her mother.

**.o0o.**

_Lynette's_ POV

"Promise me you won't be reckless," I told Tybalt.

It was late in the night, and a few days from now Father and Tybalt will be departing to the Riverlands. The accusations of our older brother Tyrion being accused of murdering a child is utterly ridiculous. I know my older brother, he has a soft spot from bastards, dwarves, and cripples, especially there was an assumption that Lord Stark's son, Brandon, will be a cripple. News travels fast of the boy waking from his fall, yet he has no reflection on how he fell. Many assume he lost his footing, which is the logical assumption. So, Lady Catelyn accusing Tyrion of attempted murder is ridiculous.

"The only person who is reckless is our brother Jaime," Tybalt said as he was sharpening his sword.

"I pray not," I groaned, no longer being formal.

Tybalt and I made a deal, behind closed doors we can be ourselves and not hold each other to the highest standards of being Lannisters. We have to keep an image and secure our father's legacy. All our lives have been about order. The only time we were actually ourselves was when Tyrion was around. We grew up with Tyrion, as he taught us how to read, opening our minds to literature, and…taught us how to drink. I can't recall how many times I've fallen stupor drunk from his drinking game. And yet Tyrion has been our truest older brother, despite his height. So, there is no doubt that my brother would ever harm a child.

Sadly, our relationship with the eldest two, the twins, is somewhat strained. I was about two years old when Jaime joined the Kingsguard…. well, more like drafted. When I was roughly four years old, Cersei left Casterly Rock to marry King Robert Baratheon. Mainly it was Tyrion who took over as the older brother for Tybalt and I. The only time we ever saw the twins was when we visit King's Landing or when the Crown visits us. The last time I think Cersei ever visited the Rock was nine years ago when the Ironborn attacked Lannisport.

There was a short period of time in which I lived in King's Landing under my sister's wing. I was sixteen at the time, and father allowed me to join the Royal Court to be acquainted with the art of politics and a potential suitor, Lord Renly Baratheon. The young stag is an interesting man, fluent in the art of conversation, flattery, and dancing. Although, something seemed off about him. I can't quite put my finger on it. Soon more suitors started coming over, asking for appointments and strolls. By the tenth month of my stay, Cersei became bitter and sent me back to the Rock. Father was displeased, asking my personal guards and Septa if I'd done something to embarrass Cersei or our family? To which Septa Margrett stated I was well behaved and the guards confirmed I have shown no signs of lewd behavior. I even made sure to keep my distance from the King.

"Hopefully this can be resolved before another battle," I muttered.

"Wars have started for less," Tybalt jest.

I scoffed, "For a maiden's hand."

"Careful, don't want Cersei to hear you," he teased.

"I doubt she could hear me, FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WESTEROS!" I bellowed, only to have a hand pressed against my mouth to silence me. Tybalt glaring before he started laughing. I laughed as well as I was unable to resist. After a moment I sighed and looked at him. "Please be a careful dear brother."

"I won't be going into the battlefield," he assured. "Father wants me to stand by his side and observe."

I nodded pulling out a new handkerchief I have sewn that had the embroidery of a lion with Tybalt's name.

"A token of your affection?" he teased.

"That sort of affection is acceptable to the Targaryens," I cringed.

Tybalt chuckled with mirth knowing how the Targaryens married brother to sister, even nieces with their uncles. The very thought of such a practice exist is appalling. Their belief of keeping the Valyrian bloodline pure. If you read their history, I can easily say the Valyrian bloodline is no longer pure since King Viserys the First married a maiden from House Arryn. And that is not including King Maegor's seven wives. The first Targaryen to marry out of the family was Prince Aemon Targaryen, son of King Jaehaerys I, who married Lady Jocelyn Baratheon, though the union sired a daughter and the King lived longer than his children. There must have been magic before the Doom of Valyria that prevented the complications that came from offspring of conceived from incent.

Anyway, back to the main point, I love my brother Tybalt dearly since I was his older sister. I raised him, seeing him growing up into a fine young man. He was a skilled man that would make any Highborn Lord proud. A master of the sword and bow, can speak fluent Valyrian, and studied the art of war. Father put so much effort into raising Tybalt as if he was going to be the next Lord of Casterly. But most importantly, the next War General in history.

I took his hand, "I mean it, dear brother. Be careful out there. Listen to father and Uncle Kevan."

Tybalt took my hand and kissed my knuckles, "I promise dear sister, I will do my best to not get myself killed. I have to make sure to keep lecherous men away from your maidenhead."

I scoffed, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it. Although he has a point, it will soon be time we go our separate ways. If father dares to disown Tyrion of his birthright, Tybalt will be the Lord of the Rock and Warden of the Westerland, while I will be a Lady of a Lord to a noble house. Today, was a sign from the gods to grow up. No longer being the two cubs Casterly found under the Rock, but the Lion and the Lioness. We were born and raised to preserve the honor and legacy of House Lannister.

After striking my brother with a feather pillow, I cradled his cheek and kissed his forehead.

"You've grown up so fast, little cub," I murmured. "But you still don't have your mane yet."

I messed his hair and rushed out of his bedchambers.

"Lynette!" Tybalt shouted his protest.

"Goodnight!" I replied back before going to my chambers.

On the day of departure, I stood beside Mother in the courtyard, watching the Lannister Army in a tight formation. Father was addressing his generals with Tybalt by his side, both in their armor. Father having a red sash across his body, indicating his rank as the Leader of his forces. As sixty thousand soldiers were at the ready to fight for their Warden.

Tybalt and I were raised by two mottos. The dominate being, "Hear Me Roar' of the golden lion, and our mother's motto, "I Have No Rival.' House Lannister has a reputation to keep. The dynasty of Tywin Lannister that saved our House from falling into the mud. We will not be taken advantage of or insulted. Not like the Tarbeck and Reyne, who took advantage of my late grandfather Tytos. Call us vain, assume our sins are that of pride, but we are mighty. We basically rule over Westeros now behind a closed door.

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**What do you all think?**

**So, you know I am currently working on two other stories at the moment._ A Doe in a Lion's Den_ and_ Sister's Keeper_. Updates for this story won't be as frequent as the other two until I finish them up. ADIAD is almost completed. Also take a look of my other new story called _Warg Maiden. _**

**_Lynette name comes from French and American origin. Each country has its own meaning, usually the name means Little Beauty or Idol. But I'm going from another origin. _**

**Thank you so much for reading and please leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Legacy

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones**_

_**Face Claims:**_

_**Lynette Lannister: Jodie Comer**_

_**Tybalt Lannister: Patrick Gibson**_

_**Lady Anne of Serrett: Amy Brenneman**_

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**Chapter 2: Legacy**

_Riverland Boarder_

_Tybalt's POV_

This morning Father and I went on an early hunt. It has been a month since Father received word of Tyrion being abducted by Lady Catelyn Stark. At first, I asked Father why we didn't attack the North. His response was that Lady Stark was from the Riverlands, and there were sworn men from the Riverlands who were helping Lady Stark. Father is not pleased in how things were settled in King's Landing. How Jaime attacked Lord Ned Stark out in the open. Cersei is currently trying to resolve the issue, so King Robert Baratheon doesn't take our brother's head for attacking the Hand of the King.

I shot down a Stag which Father was pleased at. When we return to camp, Uncle Kevan received a message from King's Landing. Father thanked his brother as he read the letter and scowled at the message. He summons a squire to fetch Jaime and bring him here immediately. Afterward, the soldiers put the stag on the table, as Father started his review lessons on gutting wild game. Usually, the gamekeeper or butcher handles the animals I kill on the hunt. But Father wanted me to learn so when the time comes, I'd need to use this vital skill, and no servant is there to provide their service.

Jaime soon came into the tent, wearing Lannister armor instead of his Kingsguard. It was strange to see him in our colors. Growing up, I only saw Jaime in his Kingsguard armor or his casual wear. Never in something else that wasn't issued by the Kingsguard.

"Father, Tybalt," Jaime greeted casually.

"Read," Father said, as he grabbed a knife and started the gutting process on the stag by sharpening the blade.

"Summoned to court to answer for the crimes of your bannerman Gregor Clegane, 'The Mountain' . . . uh, 'arrive within the fortnight or be branded an enemy of the crown." Jaime read the letter. "Poor Ned Stark . . .brave man, terrible judgment."

I snorted at that remark, cutting off the turfs of the stag's legs.

Father finished sharpening his knife, and gestured me to lift the front leg, "Attacking him was stupid."

He jabbed into the pit region of the stag, and vertical surface of the seam before reaching the ballsack, cutting them off, followed by the removal of the organs.

"Lannisters don't act like fools," as Father dropped the entrails in a bucket. "Are you going to say something clever? Go on, say something clever."

"Catelyn Stark took my brother," Jaime said.

Father cleaned his hand and knife before going back to carving the stag, "Why is he still alive?"

"Tyrion?" Jaime asked.

"Ned Stark," Father answered.

"One of our men interfered, speared him through the leg before I could finish him," Jaime explained.

"Why is he still alive," Father asked, lifting he skin, cutting the fat that held the hide to the flesh. I grabbed hold of it, making it more accessible.

"It would have been clean," Jaime answered.

"Clean?" I spoke. "So, you left the man to suffer than a quick death?"

Jaime held back his tongue.

"You spend too much time worrying about what other people think of you." Father murmured.

"I could care less what anyone thinks of me," Jaime countered.

"_That's_ what you want people to think of you," Father noted.

"It's the truth," Jaime defended.

Father went deep into the skinning, "When you hear them whispering "Kingslayer" behind your back – doesn't it bother you?"

Jaime shook his head, annoyed, "Of course it bothers me."

"The lion doesn't concern himself with the opinions of the sheep," Father reminded. "I suppose I should be grateful that your vanity got in the way of your recklessness. He stopped talking for a moment then said, "I'm giving you half of our forces – 30,000 men. You will bring them to Catelyn Stark's girlhood home and remind her that Lannisters pay their debts."

"I didn't realize you placed such high value on my brother's life." Jaime murmured.

"He's a Lannister," Father scoffed. "He might be the lowest of the Lannisters, but he's one of us. And every day that he remains a prisoner, the less our name commands respect."

"So, the lion does concern himself with the opinions of –"

Father turned around, giving a warning look, "No, that's not an opinion. It's a fact. If another house can seize one of our own and hold him captive with impunity, we are no longer a house to be feared."

Jaime gave him a challenging look. Father sighed going back to the stag.

"Your mother's dead. Before long, I'll be dead. And you and your brothers and your sisters and all of their children. All of us dead; all of us rotting in the ground. It's the family name that lives on. It's all that lives on. Not your personal glory, not your honor, but family." Father said and turned to face Jaime. "Do you understand?"

Jaime only nodded in response.

Father stabbed the knife into the table and grabbed the rag to clean his hand.

"You're blessed with abilities that a few men possess. You are blessed to belong to the most powerful in the kingdoms. And you are still blessed with youth. And what have you done with these blessings, huh? You've served as a glorified bodyguard for two kings – one a madman, the other a drunk."

He tossed the rag down and walked over to Jaime, "The future of our family will be determined in these next few months. We could establish a dynasty that will last a thousand years. Or we could collapse into nothing, as the Targaryens did." He then cradles Jaime's cheek, "I need you to become the man you were always meant to be. Not next year. Not tomorrow. Now."

Jaime's eyes slightly water with a promising look. Enough for Father's approval as he returns to the stag and he picked up the knife and went back to skinning the animal. Nothing could be said after that. Father always had the last say in the conversation. Jaime merely excused himself. I continued to assist with Father on skinning the stag. Absorbing the words Father has said.

I knew Father would prefer Jaime to renounce his position as a Brother of the Kingsguard and take his claim as Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the Westerland. He would never have Tyrion taking the position when Father's time comes to an end. It's common knowledge that if Jaime continues the same path, Father will disown Tyrion his birthright and I will be the next Lord of Casterly and Warden. I don't know how I feel about it. It is an honor to be the head of a great house, but…Tyrion is my brother. Can I go behind his back, just to please Father?

I wonder what Lynette was doing?

.**o0o**.

_Casterly Rock_

_Lynette POV's_

I panted taking a few deep breaths seeing my opponents standing there at the ready. Wanting to take possession of what I held in my hands. I examine my surrounding to see if any of my allies were open. Yet Lannister eyes were glaring at me. I grounded myself, before throwing the leather-bound ball to Tyrek who caught it with his feet and started kicking the ball, keeping it from Martyn, Willem, and Janie. Tyrek, Joy, and I were the opposite team, as we run around in the private gardens in Casterly Rock.

This was what I usually do after my daily lessons and no appointments. I play with my younger cousins. All them around the ages of ten to fifteen. Joy wasn't a true Lannister, no, she is a bastard to my lost uncle, Ser Gerion. He went on an expedition in search for the lost Valyrian sword Brightroar, yet he vanished in the end. Uncle Kevan, honoring his lost brother, took Joy into his care despite her blood status, raising her along with his children, Martyn, Willem, and Janie. Tyrek is another cousin, the son of Tygett. Sadly, Uncle Tygett died when Tyrek was only two years old. Us Lannisters stick together since Robert Baratheon's Rebellion. Growing up, I tried to be the best older sibling figure to them all while the adults' dealt with politics. We have more cousins, but the ones playing the games are descended from our Grandfather Tytos. Of course, we have cousins in House Frey since Aunt Genna married into the family. Although we hardly if ever see them.

As we play, Mother was having tea with Lady Dorna Swift and Lady Darlessa Marband. It was a lovely day as we all socialize. There haven't been many reports, other than Lord Ned Stark warranting Ser Gregor Clegane's arrest, and Jaime hurting the Hand of the King for his wife arresting Tyrion. Sometimes I wonder who the adult is in this family. Most of the time, the men in my generation don't act their age, but their shoe size.

Mother used to say there are two types of men in the world: the one who thinks before they act, and the ones who act on impulse. Cersei must be working in getting Robert to resolve Jaime's actions. At this rate, whatever relationship the Starks and Lannisters have is officially gone. The only thing that could salvage this was civil respect. Sad to say that I can't say, 'The last thing we need is another war.' When Lady Stark started a war by taking my older brother.

Nine years without conflict. Not since the Greyjoy started their rebellion and pillaged Lannisport. I remembered that day, and how furious father was that Balon Greyjoy would dare attack the Westerlands. The only reason Balon Greyjoy would attack is because Cersei was married to the King.

Anyway, I continue to play with my cousins.

Meanwhile, Maester Creylen came over to Mother, handing her a raven scroll. Mother read the scroll before her eyes widen. Concerned, I came over to Mother as she gave the news to Aunt Dorna and Aunt Darlessa. They were surprised in what was written in the scroll.

"Mother, what is it?" I asked.

"King Robert is dead," Mother announced.

"What? How?" I asked.

"He died on his hunting trip. Apparently, he was speared by a boar," Mother answered.

"Drinking and hunting don't go well together," Aunt Dorna said. "Poor Lancel, he must be devastated."

Yes, Cousin Lancel was King Robert's squire. Cousin Lancel was my age, a young man though he can be nervous sometimes under pressure. Yet he is very determined to accomplish his work and to please his lord. Although, now that Robert Baratheon is dead…my nephew is now King. Robert was a jolly drunk. When I lived in King's Landing for a short time, Robert invited me for some meals and company. Most he messed around, busy drinking and whoring as Cersei tried hard to keep me away from him. She was protecting my honor, as Septa Margrett stood by my side. He was a vulgar man.

Now that Joffrey is King, I feel sorry for him. He was only sixteen, just a boy. Hopefully, the Small Council can guide him along with Cersei. I may not know royal politics, but I do understand it is a tedious task to maintain the Seven Kingdoms.

"Anything else?" Tyrek asked.

"Oh, yes, Lord Stark has been charged with treason. They say he conspired with Robert's brothers to deny the throne to Prince Joffrey." Mother answered.

"And they say wolves are smart," Tyrek murmured.

"So much for a man of honor," Aunt Darlessa said.

Yes, so much for a man of honor, I thought.

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**Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3: Taste of Battle

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52**_

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones_**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Taste of Battle**

_Tybalt's POV_

Can anything get worse?

Father was not pleased upon receiving word of how things are going in King's Landing. At First, King Robert's death was an advantage to have the Lannisters take control of the Seven Kingdoms as Prince Joffrey was more Lannister than Baratheon. Not because he favors his mother in traits, but the lion's pride in his veins. Unfortunately, my nephew and sister took this out of hand by arresting Ned Stark on the accusations of treason and slaughtering his company. Now that Ned Stark is in a cell and his daughters under house arrest, his son, Robb Stark is marching now with twenty-thousand men. Jaime was already out heading to Riverrun. By then he would have already seized the castle before Robb arrived.

Currently, Father, Uncle Kevan, and I were going over battle plans. When all of a sudden, a group of men enter the War Tent, being led by Tyrion, followed by another man, with a group of barbarians. We were surprised to say the least. As we had thought Tyrion was being held captive at the Eyrie. He was locked away in a sky-cell. So, what in the Seven, is he doing here? I doubt he is capable of a Trial by Combat unless one of the his…friends…took his place.

"Tyrion," Ser Kevan said.

"Uncle," Tyrion greeted. "Brother. Father."

"The rumors of your demise were unfounded," Tywin said.

Tyrion hesitated for a second, "Sorry to disappoint you."

"And who are these . . . companions of yours?" Tywin asked.

There were three men and one woman.

"This is Shagga, son of Dolf, Chieftain of the Stone Crows." Tyrion introduced. "Timett, son of Timett, ruler of the Burned Men. This fair maid is Chella, daughter of Cheyk, leader of the Black Ears."

Father seemed displeased that Tyrion had associated himself with the hilltribes. Barbarians as he called them when getting news from the Vale of Arryn. If you think Wildings was a problem beyond the Wall, the Hilltribes is what we Southerners have to deal with as they raid and steal from the villages.

Tyrion then turns to the one person who was a bit more civilized. A sellsword by the looks of it.

"And here we have Bronn, son of . . ."

"You wouldn't know him," Bronn finished.

You got to be kidding me, I thought, as did Father and Uncle Kevan.

"May I present my lord father, Tywin, son of Tytos of House Lannister. Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West?" Tyrion said as he came over to the table to pour himself a drink. "Kind of you to go to war for me."

Father reached over, taking the pitcher away, "You left us no choice. The honor of the house was at stake. Your brother would never have submitted to capture so meekly."

"We have our differences, Jaime and I," Tyrion said, not looking at him. "He's braver. I'm better looking."

I snorted to that.

"He's been covering himself in glory." Tywin snapped.

"Jaime smashed the river lords at the Golden Tooth, and now lays siege to Rivierrun, Catelyn Stark's homeland," Uncle Kevan informed.

"And the Starks? Lord Eddard?" Tyrion asked.

"Is our hostage," I answered.

"He will lead no armies from his dungeon cell," Tywin added.

"How did my sweet sister persuade the king to impression his dear friend Ned?" Tyrion asked.

"Robert Baratheon is dead. Joffrey rules in King's Landing," Tywin answered proudly.

This surprised Tyrion, "My sister rules, you mean."

"Stark's son has called his banners," Uncle Kevan announced. "He moves south with a strong host."

"A green boy," Tywin muttered. "One taste of battle and he'll run back to Winterfell with his tail between his legs."

"Maybe," Tyrion replied, still comprehending the news. "Though the boy does have a certain belligerence. You'd like him."

Tywin scowled at his middle child.

"While we're on the subject of war," Tyrion said, eyeing the golden cup of wine. "I made a promise to my friends here, and a Lannister always pays his debts. We shall require three-thousands helms and shields, plus swords, pikes, gorgets, maces—"

Suddenly an Informer of the Ravens rushed in as he kneels before his lord.

"If it pleases my lord, Ser Addam bids me report that the Northmen have crossed the Neck." The squire said.

Father smiled; his lips tight together as he stood up. Robb Stark seriously doesn't know what he is getting himself into. Lord Tywin Lannister fought in the War of the Ninepenny Kings, he put the end of House Reyne and House Tarbeck for stealing from the Lannisters, making the two families go extinct, was once hand of the King for nineteen years, aided Robert Baratheon in the sacking of King's Landing, and also support against the Greyjoy rebellion, after the Ironborn burned the Lannister Fleet. Tywin Lannister has seen more bloodshed than any War General in the last hundred years. One thing Tywin Lannister enjoys when it comes to war is putting men in their place.

"The wolf rushes into the lion's jaws. So be it," Tywin said and glances at his brother. "Kevan, command the drummers beat assembly."

Kevan nodded as he made his way out, yet Father continued, "And send word to Jaime that I am moving against Robb Stark."

Uncle Kevan stopped with a nod and smile, "At once, my lord."

Father then walked around facing the Hilltribes, though passed Bronn. He stopped between Shagga and Timett. During this, Tyrion reached out for the pitcher and poured himself some wine. As much as I care and respect my older brother, I do wish he can take the matter more seriously than his next drink.

"It is said that men of the mountain clans are great warriors," Tywin noted, the offered. "Ride with me against my enemies, and you have all my son promised you and more."

"Only if the half-man fights with us. Until we hold the steel, he pledged us, the little lion's life is ours," Shagga said.

All eyes turned to Tyrion, seeing him silently pleading not to do this. I would agree. Tyrion may have a sharp mind…when he is not drinking…but he isn't battle-ready. He doesn't know how to use a sword, or ax, or even a dagger. His squires do most of the work when it comes to a hunt. Even then he prefers hunting whores than beasts.

"Done," Tywin promised.

Before Tyrion could object, Tywin left the tent. My older brother glanced at the Hilltribe men and then back at me. Sadly, there is nothing much I can do and knowing Father, he is expecting me to get Tyrion and his men a tent, if not find Tyrion some suitable armor. Once the Hilltribes were settled, I lead Tyrion to his tent.

"Thank you, Tybalt," Tyrion said.

"You should send a raven to Lynette, she has been worried about you," I said.

Tyrion couldn't help but smile slightly. Growing up, it has been Tyrion taking the role of an older brother. Despite his height, I respect and care for him. He raised us, taught us to read, be creative, and in his definition, how to drink appropriately. There were times he had tried to take me whoring, but I put my foot down, drinking yes, whoring no. The last thing I need is Father lecturing me about sleeping with a prostitute.

"I'll send her a raven at once," Tyrion promised.

I only nodded before leaving for my tent.

**.o0o.**

Another War meeting assembled a week later. All the War Generals were there, taking our position at the table. Uncle Kevan took the lead in the discussion, based on the reports our scouts and spies have accumulated over the past several days.

"Our scouts tell us the Stark host has moved south from the Twins with Lord Frey's levies in tow," Uncle Kevan informed. "They're a day's march north."

"The boy may lack experience and sense, but he does have a certain mindless-provincial courage," Tywin said.

Just then, Tyrion sat at the table, joining us for supper. Late, as usual, which Father is not pleased since he prefers everyone arrives in a timely order. The only exception a man should not come is that he is either in battle, recovering from the battle, or dead. Can't make an excuse from death. Tyrion got in his chair, and not a second longer, raised his glass, which a cup-bearer poured him some wine.

"Oh, do continue," Tyrion said. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

"I do hope your savages are going to be of some use; otherwise we've wasted good steel on them," Tywin said.

"The great hairy one insisted he must have two battleaxes – heavy black steel, double-sided," Uncle Kevan informed.

"Shagga likes axes," Tyrion shrugged taking a sip of wine.

"When the battle commences, you and your wildings will be in the vanguard," Tywin said, taking a sip of wine.

"The vanguard?" Tyrion asked.

"Mm-hmm," Tywin replied.

"Me and the tribesmen on the front lines?" Tyrion asked in disbelief.

"They do seem rather ferocious," I said.

"Ferocious?" Tyrion replied. "Last night a Moon Brother stabbed a Stone Crow over a sausage. Three Stone Crows seized the Moon Brother and opened his throat. Bronn managed to keep Shagga from chopping off the dead man's cock, which was fortunate, but even still Ulf is demanding blood money which Shagga and Guntnor refuse to pay."

_Seven hells,_ I thought, then sighed, taking a bite of bread.

"When soldiers lack discipline, the fault lies with their commander," Tywin said.

"Surely there are ways to have me killed that would be less detrimental to the war effort," Tyrion countered.

"There'll be no more discussion on the matter," Tywin said, picking up his glass of wine.

The table was engulfed in silence — only the sound of the camp outside the tent and the munching of food. Tyrion seriously has a death wish. It is known Father doesn't like Tyrion. Although the reason why other than his behavior and preference of the company couldn't be the cause. Yes, I know Tyrion is a dwarf, but he is cunning. Cersei once said Father blames Tyrion because Father's first wife Lady Joanna died on the birthing bed. Women die all the time when there is a complication of giving birth. A newborn can never be blamed for that. There's got to be something else.

"It appears I'm not hungry after all," Tyrion said, tossing the bread he had on the table and set the wine down. "Excuse me, my lords."

Without another word he left.

Father glared at his departure. I mentally sighed, for this was how the family was when Tyrion was home. The tension between Father and son was heavily noted. Mother tried so hard to mend the bond, yet their pride is far worse than a peacock. Tyrion does his best to be civil, and isolate himself until summon.

Later in the evening, I decided to keep Tyrion company, snatching a bottle of Dornish wine. When I got to Tyrion's tent, I called out to make sure he was not indisposed. The tent flap opens, revealing the Sellsword Bronn.

"Come on in, if you have control," Bronn said.

I was confused, as I enter the tent to see Tyrion on the ground with rosy cheeks from drinking. There was a woman there, with dark hair and eyes, wearing Tyrion's vest and skirt. I've seen her around the camp, although Lord Falwell is probably not pleased.

"Ah, Tybalt, so good for you to come by," Tyrion said. "Shae this is my kid brother Tybalt. Tybalt, this is Shae. A lovely woman, if you asked me."

"My lady," I said, being courteous.

"I'm no lady," Shae said, with a heavy accent.

"Lorathi," I noted.

"And how do you know?" Shae asked.

"Your speech starts hard then lightens at the end. Only those North of Essos between Norvos and Lorath." I answered.

Shae turned to Tyrion, "Are all Lannisters this smart?"

"Only Tybalt and I," Tyrion said. "Then again, I am his big brother in his youth."

"You were the only one there," I said, still awkward thinking what Tyrion has done the past few hours. "You seem occupied…I'll let you be."

"Nonsense, you brought wine, stay," Tyrion said, as Bronn pushed me down in the small circle.

It was strange to be openly social without Lynette. Tyrion reached over, grabbing the bottle and popped it open, before pouring wine. We drank, talking a bit until games were started to be played. Shae had one, which involved a candle. She had Tyrion and her forearm together with a candle in the center on its side, the flames touching the skin. See who have longer pain tolerance. Shae kept a smile, yet Tyrion tried to keep a brave face.

"Are you in agony, my lion?" Shae asked.

"No," Tyrion lied.

"You look like you're in agony," Shae murmured. "The fire is burning your pretty soft skin."

The candle slid and burned Tyrion as he cried out. Everyone laughed, seeing him in pain. Tyrion held his burned arm while Shae collected the candle before it burned the carpet.

"Damn you, woman. Are you immune to pain?" Tyrion asked.

"Just used to it," Shae chuckled.

"Drink," Bronn said, giving him a glass of wine.

Tyrion accepted the glass, "Let's play a new game."

Bronn got up to refill the pitcher, "There's a Braavosi knife game I could teach you—"

"Does it involve the potential for losing fingers?" Tyrion asked.

"Not If you win," Bronn said, taking a bite of food.

"No!" Tyrion protest. "No more fire games, no knife games."

I chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

"Let's do something I'm good at," Tyrion said.

"What are you good at?" Shae chuckled taking a sip.

"Guessing games. He's good at guessing games," I said. "Although, if I were you, I wouldn't play it."

Tyrion smacked my shoulder, "Oh hush, Tybalt, don't spoil my fun. I happen to be a great judge of character."

"This sounds like a boring game," Bronn muttered.

"It's not," Tyrion defended, then went over the rules. "Here's how it works: I make a statement about your past. If I'm right, you drink. If I'm wrong, I drink. And no lying. I'll know if you're lying."

Shae became uncomfortable, "I don't want to play this game."

"Fine. Bronn first," Tyrion said, facing the sellsword. "Your father beat you."

Bronn merely shrug and took a drink, "But my mother hit harder." Then refilled his cup.

We chuckled slightly from that.

"You killed your first man before you were twelve," Tyrion inquired.

"It was a woman," Bronn confessed.

Shae and I gave him a look. Why on earth would a boy want to kill a woman? It would make no sense and consider lonesome to kill a woman. Tyrion was surprised as he took a drink. Bronn noticed our distasteful look and explained.

"She swung an axe at me," he said.

"You've been north of the Wall." Tyrion continued.

Bronn impressed, took another sip.

"What brought you up there?" Shae asked.

"Work," Bronn answered.

"And . . ." Tyrion gave a dramatic paused, looking Bronn in the eye. "You once loved a woman many years ago, but it turned out badly, so you've never let yourself love again." He then paused, "Oh, wait, that's me." Before gulping down his drink.

_And you wonder why my older brother isn't married when already in his thirties, _I thought.

Bronn refilled Tyrion's glass.

"Your turn, my mysterious foreign beauty" Tyrion faced Shae.

"I don't want to play," Shae murmured, giving him a warning look.

"It's fun!" Tyrion sang. "Look at the fun we're having."

"Tyrion, if she doesn't want to play, she doesn't have to play," I warned him.

"Your mother was a whore," Tyrion started, ignoring our objection.

"Drink," Shae said.

This surprised Tyrion as he did so. Afterward, Bronn refilled his glass before he continued, "All right. Your Father left the family when you were young. Never to return."

"Drink." She said.

"And we've established the rules about lying." Tyrion reminded.

"She's not lying," I said, as I've watched her body language. Though tensed for being forced to play this game, and annoyed, so far, she is telling the truth.

"Drink," she repeated.

Tyrion drank, and Bronn refilled. My brother might have actually met his match.

"Mmmm. You wanted a different life. You came from somewhere, and you wanted to be elsewhere."

"The whole shit-stained world could drink off that one," Bronn said.

"Mmmm. You wanted a different life. You came from somewhere, and you wanted to be elsewhere.

"So, specifics—" Tyrion muttered, thinking of his choice of words. "You wanted to be elsewhere, but how would you get there? I don't believe the life of the Silent Sisters is for you. So, what's a lowborn girl to do?"

Shae sighed as she raised her cup to her lips, then handed it over to him, "Drink."

Tyrion was bewildered as he took the cup from her hand. "Are you sure –"

"Drink!" She snapped.

Not wanting to deal with the Lorathi wrath, Tyrion drank. Shae then sat up taking the cup away, though gave a predator glare into his green eyes. The same look Mother would give me if I spoke out of turn.

"And don't talk about my mother and father ever, or I will carve your eyes from your head." She warned.

Tyrion glanced at Bronn then I, before nodding. "My dear lady, if I have offended you, I apologize."

"My turn," Shae said, getting comfortable again.

"Fine, fine," Tyrion said. "Ask away. Try to penetrate the enigma that is me.

Well, this will be easy, since Tyrion is a Lannister. If not have carnal knowledge with a third of Westeros's women.

"Who were you in love with?" Shae asked.

I nearly spat the wine back in the cup.

Tyrion was baffled by her question, "That's not how the game works."

"I don't care the way the game works," Shae countered.

"Our lord here used to be married," Bronn spoke up.

"Married?" Shae asked, now curious.

"How did you hear that?" Tyrion demanded.

"You hear lots of things playing dice with Lannister soldiers," Bronn answered.

"It is getting late," I said, as I stood up. Trying to change the subject to save my brother from a sorrowful memory. "If you are all-wise, you do the same."

"Yes, goodnight brother," Tyrion said.

I gave a courteous bow to Shae, even though she was a whore, she was still a woman. She gave a slight smile, accepting the gesture. Afterward, I left the tent, although the conversation about Tyrion's wife continued. I remember the story, Lynette and I heard it from drunken guards, muttering of their position at Casterly Rock. A terrible prank on Jaime's part in order for Tyrion to lose his virginity at sixteen. He had hired a Whore and men to chase after her and mock a rape. As Jaime took care of the men, and Tyrion took the Whore whose name was Tysha to safety. The damsel rewarded Tyrion with a night of sex, and Tyrion fell in love and married the woman.

Father discovered the union from the drunken Septon and had the marriage annulled. Although Tysha was not simply tossed, no…Father wanted to show Tyrion that Tysha never loved him and was a whore. Had the guards fornicate with her, in exchange for a silver coin, until the coins can no longer be settled in her hands. The last round was Tyrion, who watched and forced to have a go with her, before leaving a gold coin.

I would say Father took it to far, but I blame Jaime on it. Tyrion didn't deserve to be pranked like that. He didn't deserve to have his emotion played with, and Father coming in to do a reality check. The event put a scar on Tyrion that he can never trust a woman no longer than a single night. The only women he can trust, are the ones in our family, well, our cousins, Mother, and Lynette. Tyrion still doesn't trust our eldest sister, Cersei as I heard what Cersei did as a child, blaming a servant girl for stealing a necklace and had her whipped when the supposed stolen item was in Cersei's second jewelry box.

Shaking my head from the thoughts of my eldest sister, I made my way to my tent. Once there, my Squire, Wade, from House Prester came over to help me get ready for the night. He was a young man, with brown hair and eyes. Afterward, I let him rest before sleeping as well.

**.o0o.**

The sound of the horn woke me before Wade even entered the tent. I knew the horn was indicating the sounds of battle. The Starks must have arrived a day early. Quickly I leapt out of bed and started getting dressed getting my underclothes when Wade rushed in to help me in my armor. Once that was assembled, I grabbed my sword and went to see Father.

Father was in his tent as his squire helped him into his armor. He looked up and nodded in approval in how fast I woke to be here — not taking my time.

"We must be off," Tywin said.

I nodded as I secured my sword before we headed off. Getting on the horses and onto the edge of the battlefield, seeing the men rushing into formation. We reached the top of the Green Fork. I was confused, for our scouts reported twenty-thousands men…this appeared to be a tenth of the amount. The Hilltribes as promised rushed into the vanguard charging ahead, although I could not see Tyrion. Once the Hilltribes were in, practically ten-thousands of our men charged in. You can say that I blinked, for ten minutes later the men were slaughtered.

"Clever boy," Tywin said.

I looked Father confused by that statement for a moment until realizing what he meant. Robb Stark sacrificed what seemed to be two thousand men to their death and took the rest of his men elsewhere.

We made way to the field to see the progress. It wasn't long when we found Tyrion laying on a wagon with Bronn. He had a nasty bump on his forehead that bled slightly. His armor covered in mud. Did Tyrion actually fight in the battle?

"You're wounded," Tywin noted.

"Good of you to notice," Tyrion sarcastically replied. "I hear we won."

Thus, he confirms he did not fight in the battle.

"Hmph," Tywin scoffed. "The scouts were wrong. There were two-thousand Stark Bannermen, not twenty-thousand."

"Did we get the Stark boy, at least?" Tyrion asked.

"He wasn't here," I answered.

Tyrion was confused, "Where was he?"

"With his other eighteen-thousand men," Tywin replied, before taking off.

"And where are they?" Tyrion asked.

"Probably marching towards Jaime's forces," I guessed. "Either way, we still outnumber them."

"Maybe," Tyrion said.

I turned to the soldiers, "Escort my brother to the infirmary. Make sure that wound is checked. I will see you later."

With nothing else to say, I clicked my tongue that had the horse catching up with Father. This was only the beginning. We have the advantage in numbers and skilled men. Although this being my first battle, I knew deep down; this was only the beginning. That Robb Stark made this a diversion. Only time can tell. As long as Cersei keeps Ned Stark and his daughter's hostage, we have a better chance of keeping the wolves in place.

* * *

**What do you guys think about Tybalt?**

**Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


	4. Chapter 4: The Pride Divided

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones**_

_**Face Claims:**_

_**Septa Margaret: Megan Follows**_

_**Tyrek Lannister: Tom Holland (before Spiderman.)**_

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Pride Divided**

_Tybalt's POV_

It was a few days after the battle, one would say it was a victory for the battle of Green Fork. Demolishing two-thousand Stark men in a mere hour. What was supposed to be a victory, was not so when a raven arrived from Jaime's infantry announcing that Robb Stark has taken Jaime. Jaime had thirty-thousand men. Based on the reports, Robb Stark had eighteen-thousand men and gained the alliance with House Frey. Apparently, in order for the Young Wolf to reach the Riverlands, he made a pact with Lord Walder Frey to marry one of his daughters or granddaughters, in order to cross the bridge. A part of me felt sorry for Robb on that since barely any lord wants to marry into House Frey…except for Aunt Genna.

Father was silent. When he is silent the best thing to do is not speak to him unless it was absolutely necessary. Then, two ravens arrived a day later from King's Landing…Lord Eddard Stark was executed on the crimes of treasons. The second Raven then announced that Robert Baratheon's brothers declared war for the Iron Throne. They were stating that Joffrey had no claim. The Great Lion of Casterly Rock isolated himself. No one, not even his Squire and cupbearer disturbed him as he thought of a plan.

I was shocked that Cersei would allow this execution. Lord Stark and his two daughters were our critical pieces in settling this rebellion. They were our hostages, and she allowed Joffrey to execute the Alpha of the pack.

It would be evening when Father assembled the War Council. We won the battle of the Green Fork but lost at the Whispering Wood. That was the discussion, as Uncle Kevan, Tyrion, Ser Harry Swift, Ser Addam Marbrand, Lord Leo Lefford gathered at the war table.

"They have my son," Lord Tywin finally spoke, his back turned from everyone around the table.

Silence.

Tyrion was the bravest to speak out, "The Stark boy appears to be less green than we'd hoped."

"I've heard his wolf killed a dozen men and as many horses," Lord Leo Lefford added.

"Is it true about Stannis and Renly?" Ser Addam Marbrand asked.

"Both Baratheon brothers have taken up against us," Uncle Kevan confirmed. "Jaime captured; his armies scattered . . . it's a catastrophe. Perhaps we should sue for peace."

Tyrion tossed his goblet as it shatters on the floor. It caught the War Generals, the squires, and cupbearer's attention. Even Father turned around, seeing what has happened.

"There's your peace," Tyrion said, staring at the broken goblet. "Joffrey saw to that when he decided to remove Ned Stark's head. You'll have an easier time drinking from that cup than you will bring Robb Stark to the table now. He's winning . . . in case you hadn't noticed."

"Two battles does not make him a victor," I reminded.

"I'm told we still have his sisters." Uncle Kevan started.

"The first order of business is ransoming Ser Jaime," Lord Leo interrupted.

"No truces. We can't afford to look weak," Lord Addam argued.

"We should march on them at once," Ser Harry declared.

Uncle Kevan tried to be the voice of reason, "First we must return to Casterly Rock to raise—"

"They have my son!" Lord Tywin bellowed silencing the War Council and faced us with pure rage. "Get out, all of you."

No one argued or spoke as we all stood up to make our departure. Father took a seat at the head of the table as he pointed to Tyrion and me.

"You two stay," he said calmly.

Tyrion and I glanced at each other, a bit cautious for the Great Lion had his mane at the edge of his skin. Not wanting to displease him, we took our seats on each side of the table. Father turned his attention to Tyrion, pouring him a drink, taking control in how much wine Tyrion can have. Tyrion frowned yet remained quiet.

"You were right about Eddard Stark," Tywin said, pouring me a drink and his own. "If he were alive, we could have used him to broker a peace with Winterfell and Riverrun, which would have given us more time to deal with Robert's brothers. But now . . . madness – madness, and stupidity."

Father then dropped a raven scroll on the table.

"I always thought you were the stunted fool," Tywin said. "Perhaps, I was wrong."

"Half wrong," Tyrion sarcastically replied. "I'm new to strategy, but – unless we want to be surrounded by three armies, it appears we can't stay here."

"No one will stay here," Tywin assured. "Ser Gregor will head out with five-hundred riders and set the Riverlands on fire from God's eye to Red Fork. The rest of us will regroup at Harrenhal."

Father grabbed his wine and took a sip, "And you _will_ go to King's Landing."

"And do what?" Tyrion asked.

"Rule!" Tywin answered. "You _will_ serve as Hand of the King in my stead. You _will_ bring that boy-king to heel and his mother too if needs be. And if you get so much as a whiff of treason from any of the rest: Baelish, Varys, Pycelle –"

"Heads, spikes, walls," Tyrion listed baffle in what father was saying.

Father nodded.

Tyrion was still surprised by his new position, "Why not my uncle? Why not anyone? Why me?"

I was curious as well.

"You're my son," Tywin answered. "Also, Lynette will be accompanying you to King's Landing. Joffrey is fond of his aunt; she will help you in bringing that that boy to heel and provide aid in alliances. See if we can find a new match since her intended has declare war on our family."

"Lynette," Tyrion was still overwhelmed.

"I've already sent a raven," Tywin confirmed taking another sip. "Oh, one more thing, you _will_ not take the whore to court. Do you understand?"

Tyrion remained silent as Father dismissed him. Not saying another word, Tyrion left not even finishing his drink. I don't know how Father knew about Shae. But I can see where Father saw a concern of Tyrion being taken advantage of again. Although I was concerned about Lynette, how was she supposed to get to King's Landing? She would have to travel through either the Riverlands or the Reach. If Renly Baratheon gains House Tyrell's support, she will not be safe. If she goes by sea, it will take four to six months, and Lynette doesn't do well by when sailing by sea.

"Father, if I may?" I spoke up.

Father looked at me, giving the nod.

"You always said there should always be a Lannister at the Rock. Shouldn't Lynette remain there in case anything was to happen to Tyrion, Jaime, and I or Cersei- "

"I see you are a concern for your sister, but I assure you travel plans have been arranged," Tywin said. "King Joffrey is fond of your sister. She's his favorite aunt."

Between Selyse and Lynette, who would be his favorite? The grieving mother of three stillborn sons or the young creative maid? Knowing Father has made his decision, there was no way to change it unless the Gods intervene or the war ends this very second.

"You were also right, Tybalt, this is only the beginning," Tywin said. "Two battles does not mean the end of a war."

I nodded, taking a sip of wine.

Suddenly soldiers came in dragging a drunken knight and his Squire.

"What's the meaning of this?" Tywin demanded.

"My Lord, we found Ser Lorimer stealing a ham from our food supplies," one of the soldiers explained. "Found him passed out with the hambone in his hand. What shall we do with them?"

Father stood up, walking around the table to dace Ser Lorimer, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Ser Lorimer was speechless still recovering from a hangover.

Father scowled, "Hang him, and his squire."

The Squire, having dark eyes and hair panicked.

"Wait, Lord Tywin," I spoke up walking over.

"What is it, Tybalt?" Tywin asked.

I walked over to the Squire, "What is your name?"

"Podrick Payne," the Squire mumbled.

A young man of House Payne. He has a cousin who serves as the King's executioner. It would be wrong to execute a man whose House has served our family for hundreds of years. We should not punish him for the crimes of his Knight. Ser Lorimer was supposed to teach Podrick in how to be a knight. He should not be held at fault for the Knight's action of thievery.

"Lord Tywin, if I may suggest to reassigning Podrick to another lord or knight, he should not be held accountable for his master's crime," I said.

"And who do you think should be his next Lord?" Tywin asked.

I paused thinking about it, but under the time crunch of Father's intensive stare, one name came out, "Tyrion."

Father paused, staring into my eyes. Tyrion would be Podrick's next lord. Even though Tyrion was no knight, it will make Podrick becoming a knight farther away, becoming more of a servant than a knight for the next ten years or so. Father nodded in approval.

"Hang Ser Lorimer and make the squire watch before setting him with my son," Tywin said.

"Yes, my lord," the second soldier said, dragging the two men out.

I sighed in relief.

Father placed his hand on my shoulder, "You made a wise decision. You may have your mother's gentle heart, but you choose wisely."

I could only nod.

.**o0o**.

_Lynette's POV_

I stood on the walls of Casterly Rock, watching the horizon of the Sunset Sea. Holding onto a raven scroll sent by Tyrion informing me he was safe. I was pleased to know that Tyrion was alive and safe. I was worried, wondering what Lady Catelyn and Lady Lysa, the Tully sisters did to him. As the knights mention a sky cell that has a slope. It will be one story I can't wait to hear. Wondering how he got out of it, I doubted his sense of humor saved him like the last. Or the infamous motto people say is our own, "A Lannister will always pay his debt."

The sounds of footsteps could be heard on the carved stone, as I glance at the person to be Mother. She smiled softly, her hazel eyes shimmering from the sun beginning to set. Along her neck was a pendant, a golden medallion of the lion as a gem peacock feather caresses it — the same necklace I wear as well. Only two were made, for mother and daughter.

"What is it Mother?" I asked.

"Maester Creylen received much news," She murmured. "Ned Stark is dead. King Joffrey executed him a few days ago. Especially when Stannis and Renly Baratheon are taking up arms."

I scowled, "Father must not be pleased."

"He is not, he and Tybalt won the battle of the Green Fork. However, your Brother Jaime has been captured by Robb Stark at the Whispering Woods." She added.

My eyes widen upon hearing that. My eldest brother captured. That's impossible; he is the best Swordsman since Ser Author Dayne. How in the Seven did Jaime get captured? It was unlike Jaime to surrender.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Yes," Anne answered. "Your father wants you to go to King's Landing. He believes you are capable of pleasing Joffrey since he is rather fond of you."

"Between Lady Selyse and I, I wouldn't disagree on who his favorite aunt is," I jest.

Mother gave a chuckled, knowing that is true. The last time I was in King's Landing Joffrey and I were very close. He confided in me, having a hard time grasping the early stages of adolescence. He was a hunter, trying to show his skills of hunting when finding a dead cat and skinning it, presenting the pelts to King Robert. Only he received a smack in the face. It's a shame how the royal children are disregarded by their father, while Cersei smothered them instead of letting them grow up.

Then I thought about the war, "And how am I supposed to get there?"

"Your father is sending his best riders to escort you there. Though you will be under a disguise not dressed as a Lannister." She explained.

"And who will I dress as?" I asked.

"As a rich merchant's daughter," she answered. "I already have the seamstress working on your attire."

I could only nod.

"Last time in King's Landing Cersei didn't like me; I wonder what I ever did to make her hate me so?"

Mother rested her hand on my shoulder, "It's because I'm not Lady Joanna. I married your Lord Father late in his life while she was only an adolescent. Twenty-one years of marriage, and she resented me. She is also jealous of you, my dear. You are young and beautiful, if not very talented. The gods blessed you with many gifts. If Cersei weren't so spiteful, you would have married Renly sooner. Then again, I am at fault in asking your father to wait. I wanted you to be strong and healthy when you bear a child."

She is right; women who give birth so young end up dying on the birthing bed. Even if the woman has flowered at the age of twelve, it was still too young to marry. Many young wives died very young. One man who married many child brides was Lord Walder Frey. I feel sorry for every young woman who has to marry that old lecher.

Mother leaned over and pecked my cheek. "This can be your chance to find suitors. Men who can ease the Lannister cause. Although, there could've been a chance of you marrying Renly and possibly become Queen."

"Don't say such things, Joffrey is King and Tommen is his current heir until a son is born," I said.

Although Renly Baratheon indeed infatuated me. He is handsome and quite charismatic, with a sense of humor and gentleman chivalry. During our small courtship, he would entertain me with laughter and joy. Dining on tea and the peaches harvested from the Reach. But I must confess, something was off about him. We danced and took air, yet the conversation of a possible marriage flusters him so, and the discomfort when Robert talked about the idea. Shame he has become my House's enemy unless Father considers arranging peace against Stannis Baratheon. I won't be surprised if that happens.

"Come now, let's get your measurements," Mother insisted. "You and the boys shall be leaving soon. It is time for Willem and Martyn to become squires so they can become knights and Tyrek will be accompanying you."

"Probably getting away from the cousins teasing him over his betrothal to Ermesande Hayford." I murmured.

Tyrek has been contracted to marry Lady Remained Hayford. The heir of House Hayford. Although there is one little problem. Lady Ermesande is only a baby. It would take thirteen more years before Tyrek can marry her. Most of the male cousins' snicker calling Tyrek the Wet Nurse. So, Tyrek coming to King's Landing is an excellent escape from the teasing.

**.o0o.**

It would be a week as riding preparations were made. We were traveling through the Goldroad. It will take two maybe three weeks since we will be crossing through the Riverlands. Hopefully, our disguises as a merchant family from the Reach will dismiss the Rivermen's suspicions as Tyrek and I will be under the disguises of siblings. When we get to the Riverlands, we will depart from Willem and Martin, who were excited to become squires. All they ever wanted was to become knights, just like their father.

So, the night before our departure, there was a family feast. Lady Darlessa and Lady Dorna were proud of their boys. Janei was jealous as well as Joy wishing they could join us to King's Landing. Janei was hoping she could see Lancel again. I smiled, promising her to have Lancel send a letter as soon as possible when I get there. She smiled, happily and warned Willem and Martyn she would not be happy if they don't write to her. All of us ladies chuckle in how serious Janie was.

By dawn, I was dressed in my riding clothes. I was wearing a soft blue dress trimmed with yellows. As if Mother wanted to make me more of a Serrett than a Lannister, while my hair put in a braid, and simple riding boots. Clothes will be provided in King's Landing, so being out in the open I packed only three sets of clothes.

Septa Margaret came in wearing Reach Septa's attire. No longer in her Westerland clothes of luxurious fabrics without the embroidery. Now she is wearing greens and brown. Her headdress covered in embroidery.

"As much as the Westerlands Septa attire is made of rich and sturdy fabrics, this is unnecessary of the filigree," Septa Margaret said.

"Once we reached King's Landing, we will return back in our usual attire," I assure her.

"My dear, you are the daughter of the greatest War General in the last hundred years," Septa Margaret said.

"That she is," Lady Anne said, as she came over with her cloak and wrapped it around my shoulder.

"I wish you could come, Mother," I said.

"I will when your Lord Father believes it is safe," Lady Anne assured. "Maybe the next time we meet will be your wedding."

"Mother," I gasped.

"I will make sure her virtue is intact," Septa Margaret promised.

Mother turned to the Septa, "Physically intact, yet let her experience a kiss or two. Otherwise, men will fear her."

Septa Margaret snorted, of course, she was of good faith. She was not like most Septa who are quiet, meek, and teaches me how to be a lady. She has character, although she doesn't show it openly in formal events. Sarcasm is a proper way of putting it. Mother picked her when I was five years old. Without Septa Margaret, life wouldn't be amusing. You might as compare to the Queen of Thornes.

Mother turned to me and pecked both my cheek, "I love you, my little lioness. Be safe and cautious. Power is changing."

I nodded, "I'll write to you when I get to King's Landing."

Mother nodded, knowing I would keep my word. A part of me wishes she could come; however, the Lady of Casterly Rock must remain until summon. I find it strange Father is not leaving one of his children at the Rock in case something were to happen to the other three sons. But he believes I can tame the young King. Only I have to be sure my nephew is not in the mood of cutting off his relative's heads.

We said our final farewells to the cubs, and I got on my horse securing my cloak for the long travel. Martyn and Willem said goodbye to their mother as did Tyrek. It will be some time before we see them again but we must do our part in serving House Lannister. We are a pride, and we must work together to secure our legacy.

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	5. Chapter 5: King's Lading

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones**_

_**A/N: Sorry for the long wait on this story. I was trying to figure out how to approach it without being an exact copy of A Doe in a Lion's Den. Making sure Lynette is not Elain. Yes, both stories take place in King's Landing the majority of the time. However, Lynette still values the Lannister definition of a family. She does have her mother's, gentle heart. But is directed towards family and children. Not everyone. So, if you see any resemblance, I apologize. I'm not trying to be lazy.**_

_**Also I'm dealing with technical issues. My laptop's port charger has run out. So usual story updates will be off schedule due to typing on a tablet. Along with COVID-19 Pandemic. I wish for everyone to stay safe and to remember to wash your hands.**_

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**Chap****ter**_** 5:**_** King's**** Land****ing**

_Lynette's POV_

It was a long journey as the small company made the journey to King's Landing on the Goldroad. The travels from the Reach was of ease. Although, as we made it to the Reach, we have heard the celebration of Renly Baratheon has declared himself as King and married Lady Margaery of House Tyrell. I was a bit hurt since Renly was supposed to be my intended. Father and King Robert were supposed to arrange a marital contract. If only the King hadn't delayed in his whoring and hunting.

Septa Margaret had to snap some common sense. Even though Renly was handsome and good company, she believes it wouldn't have worked out. And also, even if it did, I would have grown tired of luxurious parties before our third anniversary. I had to chuckle, which lightens my spirit, knowing she was right. So, the following day we continue onward to King's Landing.

We made our first stopped at the Blackwater Rush, where Martyn and Willem departed to join a small Lannister Army. They will be under the guideship of our cousin, Ser Stafford Lannister. Ser Stafford used to be Father's good-brother from his first marriage with Lady Joanna. In the end, all Lannisters were family, no matter how distant of a cousin you are. Anyone who bares the Lannister name holds the same regards to any noble house, if not higher. Ser Stafford welcomed us for the night to recover in a small castle the Lannister acquired for the southern part.

Although, in a few weeks' time, they will be heading north to the Riverlands. Tyrek, Septa Margaret, and I appreciated his invitation to a good bath, a hot meal, and a comfortable bed. The next morning, we departed, although I gave my farewells to Martyn and Willem.

"Will we ever see you again, cousin?" Willem asked.

"Of course," I assured him. "You are in good hands with Ser Stafford. He fought alongside my father in the Reyne-Tarbeck rebellion. Now listen to him; keep practicing your swords. And whatever you do, do not disobey a direct order."

Willem nodded.

I turned to Martyn, who was one year older than his brother. "Take care of your brother, Martyn."

"I promise," Martyn said.

I nodded, kissing both of their cheeks before departing for the east. Our company grew small as we continued on our journey. We traveled onward when we crossed the border to the Crownlands. There we caught up with Tyrion again. I smiled brightly in seeing my older brother, until seeing his peculiar company that accompanies him.

"Are those…hill tribesmen?" Tyrek asked as we made our away.

"Ah, the smell," Septa Margaret gasped from the odor. "When was the last time they bathed?"

"Oh hush," I scolded, though scrunched up my nose as well from the smell.

The strong odor that could rival the scent of King's Landing streets. We caught up to the group as I looked at Tyrion for the first time in nearly half a year. Dressed in armor that was covered in dirt, some bruising on his face, with a deep cut on his forehead. His hair has grown, revealing a slight curl as well.

"My dear sweet sister, how nice of you to accompanying me back to King's Landing," Tyrion said. "Along with you, cousin Tyrek and Septa Margaret."

"I'm pleased to see you are alive and safe, dear brother," I said. "Although war does not suit you."

"If that cut doesn't say anything," Septa Margaret muttered.

"Ah, yes, I do not fair in the battlefield, but I might do well as Hand of the King," Tyrion sarcastically said.

"Has King Joffrey chosen you as his Hand?" I asked.

Tyrion looked at me, surprised, "No, he has chosen father. However, due the current affairs of war, our father is a bit preoccupied. So, he has temporarily appointed me as Hand of the King."

"Seven hells," Septa Margaret groaned.

I would say the same thing. Don't get me wrong, I love my brother dearly. But Tyrion has a mouth that would get him punched in the face if he wasn't nobility. Now there is a young King and the poor relationship between Cersei and Tyrion. Father should be here.

Anyway, we continued our journey towards King's Landing. Tyrek pointed out that Tyrion packed too much. Indeed, for a man who travels north to the Wall to piss over the edge, then being held hostage at the Eyrie, he acquired a lot of luggage. There was a wagon with a crate in it. Tyrek asked Tyrion what was inside.

"What is in there?" he asked.

"Oh, books I have acquired from my journey south," Tyrion answered.

"It seems you packed your entire library," Tyrek accused.

"And a barrel of Dornish wine," I added.

"Guilty," Tyrion huffed a laughed. Yet there was no mirth in it.

I have a feeling there is something else in that crate than books and wine.

**.o0o.**

After several days we have arrived at King's Landing. The stench filled our nostrils in the lack of care the city has gone under during King Robert's reign. Not like Casterly Rock and Lannisport, where there was a sewage system and aqueducts that allow water through. Let alone being a trade city, that impression must be kept if merchants from Essos, especially from Qarth, are making the hassle to trade with us. Septa Margaret immediately pulled out her fragrant handkerchief and brought it up to her nose. I resisted, baring through the stench as we made our way towards the Red Keep.

At first, no one seemed to mind. Our appearance as wealthy merchants held the façade until someone recognized Tyrion. Our blonde hair and green eyes stood out that people rushed over, begging for coin. Being considerate, I tossed a few coins to those who appeared desperate. Mainly towards the women rather than men.

It wasn't long when arriving at the Red Keep. Tyrion presented our papers to the guards, ensuring we are of House Lannister despite our disguises.

"Where is the King?" Tyrion asked.

"He is celebrating his name day at the east walls," the guard answered.

Tyrion nodded, "Escort us there."

The guarded nodded as he led the way to the East Wall. Tyrek stared in awe, seeing the difference of the Red Keep compare to Casterly Rock. The red rock standing out from the fortress walls. Legend said Maegor the Cruel had the castle painted from the blood of his enemies. When in fact, Aegon the Conqueror chose a red rock to remind people of the fire his dragons. So, whenever King's Landing looked up, they'd see the price of defiance.

We reached the east wall, where a tournament was being held. A man being restrained by two Kingsguard soaked in wine. Something must have happened before we arrived.

"Did you hear my lady, Ser Dontos?" Joffrey called out. " From this day, you'll be my new fool."

Ser Dontos stood up, panting, trying to catch his breath. He bowed, "Thank you, your grace. And you, my lady, thank you."

Then he was escorted away.

Tyrion, not pleased by this, called out, "My beloved nephew!"

People gasped, seeing us arrive. Although they were probably surprised to see hill tribesmen than more Lannisters. My niece and nephews stared at us, surprised. Only Joffrey did not hold the same joy of our arrival. Well, more of Tyrion. Since Tyrion is not afraid to smack sense in the young King.

"We looked for you on the battlefield," Tyrion said, stepping into the canopy. As he poured himself a goblet of wine. "You were nowhere to be found."

"I've been here, ruling the kingdoms," Joffrey explained.

"What a fine job you've done," Tyrion complimented, a hint of sarcasm noted. He turned to Myrcella, smiled, cradling her cheek, and gave it a peck. "Look at you. More beautiful than ever." Then to Tommen, "And you! You—you're going to be bigger than the Hound, but much better looking." He chuckled, looking at Bronn. "This one doesn't like me."

Bronn gazed at the Hound, "I can't imagine why."

I smiled, giving my youngest niece and nephew a hug and peck on the cheek. "My, you two have grown in the last four years."

"We heard you were dead," Joffrey said, towards Tyrion.

"I'm glad you're not dead," Myrcella raised

"Me too, dear," Tyrion agreed. "Death is so boring, especially now with so much excitement in the world." He then turned to a young maiden with red hair. No doubt, she was Lady Sansa. "My lady, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Her loss?" Joffrey asked. "Her father was a confessed traitor."

"But still her father," Tyrion replied sternly. "Surely having so recently lost your own beloved father, you can sympathize."

All eyes were on Sansa. She took a deep breath, "My father was a traitor. My mother and brother are traitors too. I am loyal to my beloved Joffrey."

Tyrion gazed intensely at the girl, analyzing for any truth or falseness. "Of course, you are." He took a final sip of wine. "Well, enjoy your name day, your grace. I wish I could stay and celebrate, but there is work that needs to be done."

"I'll see you later," I promised Myrcella and Tommen before following Tyrion.

This caught Joffrey's attention as he stood up, asking, "What work? Why are you here?"

_Collateral_ _damage_, I thought.

We made our way to the Throne Room, going through the side doors where the Small Council chamber was. During the journey forward, Tyrion had suggested our company be taken to the Hand's Tower to rest. However, he asked me to accompany him to the Small Council meeting. My guards followed until stopping at the door under Tyrion's order. They complied. The moment we enter, a Kingsguard was exiting with a cage that had a white raven. A white bird only meant two things, peace or the change of the season. I went with the latter, assuming summer has come to an end, and the autumn times are upon us.

A conversation could be heard about the city's supply when Tyrion started whistling the Rains of Castamere. Our presence was known, appearing in the chambers. The Small Council was compiled with nearly all the same men since the last time I was here. Grand Maester Pycelle. Lord Varys, the Master of Whisperers. Mister Peter Baelish, the Master of Coin. Commander Janos Slynt of the City Watch. However, one person who is not allowed here was in the Council Meeting. Cersei, then again, she must be taking the role of regent until Joffrey comes of age. Which contradicts since she put a lot of effort into getting Joffrey crowned as king. Therefore, Joffrey should be here and not Cersei.

"Don't get up," Tyrion said

Cersei's eyes glared at us.

"More ravishing than ever, big sister," Tyrion complimented with a smirk as he leaned over to deliver a peck on the cheek.

Cersei tried to hold her disgust, yet the annoyance was written on her face.

"War agrees with you," Tyrion said, walking to the other side of the table. Being generous, he offered me a chair by Lord Varys. I gladly accepted it. Once seated, he made to towards his seat.

"Forgive the interruption. Carry on."

"What are you doing here?" Cersei asked.

"Ah, it's been a remarkable journey," Tyrion replied as he sat down then poured himself some wine. "I pissed off the edge of the Wall, I slept in a sky cell, I fought with the hill tribes – - so many adventures, so much to be thankful for."

"What are you doing here?" Cersei scolded. "This is the small council."

"Yes, well, I do believe the Hand of the King is welcome at all Small Council meetings," Tyrion said.

"Our father is Hand of the King," Cersei corrected him, wondering if this was a joke.

"Yes, but in his absence . . ." Tyrion gestured to me.

I nodded, presenting the sealed document to Lord Varys. He was confused, as he removed the ribbon, examined the seal to be of Lord Tywin, before breaking it and reading the contents.

"Your father has named Lord Tyrion to serve as Hand in his stead while he fights. He also has assigned Lady Lynette to be a member of the court as well."

"Out!" Cersei snapped, slamming her fist on the table as she stood. "All of you out!"

Like sparrows, the men stood up, collecting their things and left in seconds. Cersei was seething, as her livid eyes glared at Tyrion. No doubt, the two people she despised the most, were here under Father's orders. Tyrion and Cersei had a loathsome relationship since Lady Joanna's death. Her distaste for me is still unclear. But, right now, her anger is towards Tyrion.

"I would like to know how you tricked Father into this?" Cersei demanded.

"If I were capable of tricking Father, I'd be emperor of the world by now," Tyrion replied.

I chuckled softly, knowing that is true.

"You brought this on yourself," Tyrion added.

Cersei got up as she sat in the chair across from me.

"I've done nothing," she said, gaining her composure.

"Quite right—you did nothing when your son called for Ned Stark's head," Tyrion jabbed. "Now, the entire North has risen against us."

"I tried to stop it," she said.

"Did you?" I asked. "Your effort does not show it. That bit of theater will haunt our family for a generation. Maybe two."

"Robb Stark is a chuckled," she chuckled, dismissing it.

"Who's won every battle he's fought," Tyrion reminded. "Do you understand we're losing the war?"

"What do you know about warfare?" she challenged.

"Nothing," he answered. "But I know people. And I know that our enemies hate each other almost as much as they hate us."

Cersei took a moment to comprehend his words. Tyrion was right. After Cersei lost control of Joffrey, causing the execution of Ned Stark, we have gained more enemies than ever. She was in control, she had sixteen years in controlling her son. No doubt, her spoiling him has led Joffrey to believe he can have everything. If this path continues, then Joffrey will be label as a Mad King. One title that Father does not smear on his legacy.

"Joffrey is King," Cersei told Tyrion.

"Joffrey is King," Tyrion repeated.

"You are here to advise him," she added.

"I'm only here to advise him," he assured, along with, "And if the King listens to what I say, the King might just get his Uncle Jaime back."

Cersei paused, "How?"

"You love your children. It is your one redeeming quality," I said.

"That and your cheekbones," Tyrion added.

"The Starks love their children as well. And we have two of them," I continued.

"One," she mumbled.

Tyrion and I stopped grasping her single word.

"One?" I asked to be sure I heard correctly.

"Arya, little animal – she disappeared." She explained.

"Disappeared? What, in a puff of smoke?" Tyrion asked, controlling his tempter. "We had three

Starks to trade. You chopped one's head off and let another escape. Father will be furious."

Cerise inhaled sharply, no doubt hating the fact she has failed our family. She even avoided looking at us.

"It must be off for you . . ." Tyrion said, gaining her attention. "To be the disappointing child."

With a smug smirk, he took a sip of wine.

"And why are you here?" she asked me.

"I'm here to mend your mistakes," I said. "See what I can fix in Father's expectations of your son."

She glared at me. The last time I was here, I was in more presence of her children than she was. I will never know why she sent me away three years ago. What ill I have done. Never have I shared her husband's bed, since my maidenhead is still intact. Not once have I spoken ill of her in front of her council, ladies, or members of the court. So whatever hostility she has towards me must come to an end if we are going to repair the damages that her son has done.

.**o0o**.

The following day, I sat in my apartment in the Hand's Tower. I stood by the window staring at the scenery. Such a lovely view of the city. The only thing that was ruining this moment was the smell. Even when high up in the tower, close to the ocean, the stench lingers like aftertaste.

"Hopefully, I can get some incense in here to reduce the smell," Septa Margaret announced. "Maybe request freshly bloomed flowers."

"That would be nice," I agreed. "It's not like Casterly Rock."

"Saltwater and mountain air is completely different from a city." Septa Margaret stated.

"Hopefully, during Joffrey's reign, he could improve the city's welfare. With Tyrion around, there shall be an improvement." I said.

"Your brother may be cunning, but all men think with their dicks," she said, as she pulled out an outfit, she scowled at it. "It seems your sister doesn't like you wearing the style of the current Lannister fashion."

I turned around to see the gown was a silk-wrapped dress. One that is common among the noble class. As stated, the Queen declares the fashion in Court. The dress was _pink_, with small embroidery of flowers on the edges of the bell sleeves. Follow by a simple bronze belt. I scowled slightly, for that was not my fashion. Cersei was trying to present me as a child. Even if Cersei still kept some of Westerlands fashion, it was too soft and shapeless. When Westerlands wear a more structure gown. Cersei is still keeping to the fashion girls wear.

"I'll have a seamstress make you some gowns that are suited for you. You are a Lady of Casterly Rock. Not one of Cersei's subjects." She said.

"Thank you, Septa Margaret," I said, as I walked inside over to a table where a basket filled with needlepoint supplies. "Do you think I could tame the King?"

Septa Margaret came over, resting a hand on my shoulder, "My dear. You are trained in the art of manipulation. Let alone you are the King's favorite aunt. That boy follows you like a lost puppy. Now is your chance to guide him on the right path. Westeros does not need another Mad King."

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Septa, Margaret stepped aside and went to answer the door. Standing there was one of the Kingsguard. If I remember correctly, he was Ser Meryn Trant.

"Septa, if I may speak with Lady Lynette." The knight asked.

Septa Margaret stepped aside, allowing the Kingsguard access. He gave a bow, not the kind given to Kings, but those towards a Great House.

"My lady," Ser Meryn started. "The King wishes to apologize in his lack of greeting yesterday and welcomes you to court."

"Tell his grace, I understand, due to my sudden arrival," I replied formally.

"His grace offers you to join him for company in a few days. Once you are settled in your quarters," Ser Meryn added.

"I feel honored to join his majesty company. Have him send his squire when he is ready to meet, Ser." I said.

"I shall, my lady," he said, as he gave the nod before leaving.

Septa Margaret waited for a moment after shutting the door. She turned around, facing me.

"You've done well, now keep the act up and you shall be on the King's good side," she said.

I nodded. Father trusts me in keeping the King in place. If I can guide Joffrey in the right direction until Father arrives. In the end, Joffrey was the face of the monarchy, while Tywin Lannister rules behind him. Septa Margaret went into one of the backs to pull out my pendant. She came around, securing the necklace in place as we stare at the vanity mirror.

"What are your two mottos?" she asked.

"Hear me roar," I listed one.

"And the other?"

"I have no rivals."

Septa, Margaret nodded as she corrected my hair.

"Now listen. Smile sweetly to their faces but know them for the spies they are and lose your tongue when they are near," she warned.

I nodded again. Everywhere there are spies.

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	6. Chapter 6: Rumors

**_The Other Lannister Sister_**

**_Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones_**

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**Chapter 6: Rumors**

_Cersei POV_

The past few days, Cersei kept a watchful eye on her two younger siblings. So far, Tyrion has remained in the tower along with Lynette. The only time Lynette was out was when she needed air and strolls the gardens with Septa Margaret and Tyrek. Her two appointed guards or any Lannister Soldier have been by the young Lady's side. Otherwise, Lynette has not encountered the children, primarily Joffrey.

That was the one thing about Lynette that Cersei despised. Her younger sister seemed more elegant, more poised as if she was better. Then again, Lady Anne taught the young lioness very well. Three years ago when Lynette was in court, nearly everyone was complimenting her while the girl was so naïve. Complimenting her looks, her talent, her grace. One person even stated she was far more beautiful than the Queen. But what draws the line, was when her children were talking about Lynette. How they had fun being with their aunt.

Cersei tried to sabotage her sister. Yet the wench of a Septa and her guards prevented any man from entering the Lady's chamber or snatching her in secluded areas. Maggy the Frog's words kept echoing in her ear during that time. Especially her prophecy about being Queen:

_Aye. Queen, you shall be... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

Lynette was younger and more beautiful. She had more talent than Cersei did, all thanks to Lady Anne. In music, needlepoint, dancing, literature, basically everything a noblewoman should be. There was no flaw, and even if a mistake happened, Lynette doesn't get flustered. She merely smiles and tries again.

In the beginning, Cersei was happy, if not excited, to be there for her sister. Wanting to be a better mentor than Lady Anne. But as the attention drawn on the Little Lioness grew, she decided that enough was enough. At first, she thought Lynette would be her enemy from the witch's prophecy. Over time, she discarded such a thought. Robert wasn't keen on sibling affairs despite how vulgar he was. As Joffrey being the _supposed_ heir, incest was not going to happen. Stannis was already married. Therefore, when Lord Tywin suggested a match with Renly Baratheon, she had mixed emotions. Yes, Lynette would still be farther away from the crown. But because of her envy towards her, she had to delay it.

Now she wonders if she had gotten Robert to secure the match and had both their younger siblings married, there be one less army to deal with. No doubt, Tywin will be lecturing her about it soon.

Power.

All that matters is power.

In order to gain more power, she needed to fix loose ends. If what Tyrion says is true about trading the Starks girls for Jaime and ending this war, then they need Arya Stark. One person who could leave without suspicion was Lord Baelish. He was a businessman, and recently appointed Lord of Harenhall. Therefore, the man had more power and an excuse to leave King's Landing without causing suspicions. A simple trip to check the status of his new lands.

She spotted Littlefinger walking along with one of the courtyards. She and her guards followed him.

"Lord Baelish," She greeted.

The man turned around, giving a slight bow, "Your Grace."

"I wonder if I might ask you for a favor," She said.

"Of course, Your Grace," he replied as they went on a stroll together.

"Ned Stark's youngest daughter Arya – we can't seem to locate her."

"If she escaped the capital, Winterfell seems the logical destination."

"And yet, my friends in the North report no signs of her."

Lord Baelish nodded, "Curious."

"If we choose to negotiate with the Starks, the girl has some value. Whoever finds her—well, you know what they say about Lannisters and their debts." She inquired.

"Well, you could ask Varys where she is." Lord Baelish suggested as he stopped to face her.

"He'll have an answer for you. Whether you believe it . . . I have always had a hard time trusting the eunuch. Who knows what they want?"

Cersei chuckles, knowing that is true since desires or the mechanism that allows desires are literally cut off from them. She noticed a silver pin on his tunic. A bird. She examined the delicate details, noticing what kind of bird it was, "A mockingbird. You created your own sigil, didn't you?"

"Yes," he said proudly.

"Appropriate . . . for a self-made man with so many songs to sings." She said with a lofty smile.

"I'm glad you like it. Some people are fortunate enough to be born into the right family. Others have to find their own way."

Cersei nodded, "I heard a song once about a boy of modest means who found his way into the home of a very prominent family. He loved the eldest daughter. Sadly, she had eyes for another."

Lord Baelish's response was, "When boys and girls live in the same home, awkward situations can arise. Sometimes, I've heard, even brothers and sisters develop certain affection. And when these affections become common knowledge, well, that is an awkward situation indeed, especially in a prominent family. Prominent families often forget a simple truth, I've found."

Cersei saw red while keeping her composure. It was her darkest secret that she loves her brother Jaime. That love has created three products of incest. Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen were not King Robert's children. They were Jaime's bastards. Jon Arryn knew that, yet the gods were good to eliminate him before he'd exposed his secrets. She made extra precautions to have the Mountain finish the Squire Hugh off in the tournament. And then Ned Stark being noisy, searching why Jon Arryn died after discovering her secret. Therefore, Jaime tried to resolve it by attacking him in the street. But Cersei had it all planned out, by having her Cousin Lancel give her husband potent wine while hunting. The boar did the rest. As the saying goes, "Drinking and hunting should never mix."

Yet damn Ned Stark was determined to expose her secret. She had everything under control until Joffrey cut off his head. Now Littlefinger stands before her with knowledge of that secret. So which Hand told him, the falcon or the wolf?

Needing to insert control, she replied, "And which truth is that?"

"Knowledge is power," he answered.

She nodded before saying, "Seize him."

Immediately her guards seized Littlefinger, causing him to drop his books.

"Cut his throat." She ordered.

One guard brought a dagger to the mockingbird's throat.

"Stop. Wait." she continued with a chuckle. "I've changed my mind. Let him go."

The guards did so.

"Step back three paces."

The guards did so.

"Turn around."

The guards did so.

"Close your eyes."

The guards did so.

Lord Baelish stared at her baffled.

Cersei smiled as she came over. "Power is power. Do see if you can take some time away from your coins and your whores to locate the Stark girl for me. I would very much appreciate it."

And in two days, Lord Baelish was on 'Holiday' to check the sights of Harrenhal.

Yet Cersei knew the truth.

Later on in the day, her trusted spy and handmaiden Bernadette came to her with news. Lady Lynette has been summoned by King Joffrey. They were currently in the Throne Room. Cersei, still questioning her sister's purpose here, went to investigate.

.**o0o**.

_Lynette's POV_

A squire was sent by the King to request me to join his majesty in the Throne Room. I was already dressed, forced to wear the hideous gown Cersei sent me. The day after my arrival, Septa Margaret had a seamstress over. It would take time for a few dresses to be made. A week at most for one that was suited to my taste. So, I wore a pink gown. My hair pulled into a westernmen braid.

My guards escorted me to the Throne Room, where Joffrey was occupying. There was excitement in his eyes. All around builders and glassblowers were deconstructing the throne room. The brass vines were coming down. Men were doing the finishing touches of the stain-glass window behind the Iron Throne, replacing the mural of a stag to the Seven-Pointed Star.

"Summer is done, and the new season of autumn is here again," I murmured.

Joffrey turned around with a smile.

I stopped ten feet away from him, giving a curtsy, "Your Grace."

"Aunt Lynette," Joffrey beamed as he came over to me. "As surprised as I was of your visit, I'm glad you could be here."

"As am I," I said. "I apologize for not being here sooner for your coronation."

"All is forgiven, the fact that you are here matters most," Joffrey said, then frowned.

I came over being two feet away from him, resting a hand on his shoulder, "What's wrong, Your Grace."

"There have been rumors roaming around," he said.

"Rumors are just that, rumors. Gossip for women and ploys for men. Tell me, what are these rumors that trouble you so?"

"They say I am not my father's son," he whispered with vile distaste.

I tilted my head, "You may not resemble your father in looks but you do favor the hunt."

"I will never be like my father," he promised. "He was once a great warrior and look what became of him."

"If I may speak," I offered. "For I do not want to speak ill of the dead."

"You may," he said.

"Your father was once a great warrior. But he grew up just that. A warrior. His entire life he was raised in the Stormlands to be a lord. The adrenaline. Let alone, he did not have the proper support he needed to become a ruler. His parent's perished, his brothers pulled away from him. Jon Arryn tried, yet he was also warrior not a politician. However, you were not raised in the Stormlands. You still have family to support you. And not just any family. House Lannister shall always be there."

"You are right, my father was a warrior. When the wars ended, he became a drunken fool. I will be nothing like him."

"Then prove to the Seven Kingdoms that you are a better King. Sons are meant to be better than their fathers." I said. "Your father gave Westeros the rebirth of spring from the Targaryen's fiery reign. Now the dynasty has become older."

Joffrey nodded in agreement, "You understand me so well."

"Well, I am your aunt," I said with a chuckle.

Joffrey chuckled as well. He took my hand, leading us around discussing the changes he plans on doing for the Red Keep. A part of me want to ask about the city yet seeing his excitement after months of stress held me back. Let him enjoy talking about the Keep. Joffrey discussed his plans, telling me he has men searching through the tunnels to find Maegor's secrets.

I was quite amazed and entertained by my nephew's plan. I didn't need to act or go along with it. My mission is keeping him on the right track of being a Lannister King. The doors opened. I glance over my shoulder, seeing Cersei entering with her guards. She has a surprised and curious expression on her face.

"What is all this?" She asked.

"Returning this room to its proper appearance," Joffrey answered. "Say what you will about the Targaryens – they were conquerors." He pointed to the Iron Throne. "That is a seat for a conqueror. It needs a room to match it, not vines and flowers."

"We can't find Arya Stark," She said softly so the workers won't hear.

"With luck, she's dead in a ditch somewhere," he replied.

"Perhaps. But if not, we need her," she said. "They'll never give Jaime back to us for Sansa alone."

"I think they might. They're weak. They put too much value on their women." He said, walking towards the dais.

"We need to set our armies to the task of finding her," She suggested, following her son. "Send out as many men as you can. I'm sure if you asked grandfather –"

"The King does not ask; he commands." He interrupted. "And my grandfather's stupidity in the field of battle is the reason Robb Stark has Uncle Jaime in the first place.

I bit back my tongue, finally seeing the problem now. My father is not stupid. He is a calculating man. It was Jaime's mistake of not seeing ahead. As much as I love my older brother, he has the tendency to jump into action without thinking. Yet another reason why he is a knight and not a general.

Cersei's face tensed. Jaime was her twin. I heard stories about twins sensing one another's distress. They worry more for their twin than anyone else. Co-dependency of one's security. My older sister is showing it. However, based on those rumors…the twin bond can slander one's reputation.

"His life is in danger," she said calmly.

Joffrey turned around, facing his mother, "We're at war. All our lives are in danger." He then glances at her. "I heard about a disgusting lie about Uncle Jaime. And you."

Cersei inhaled sharply through her nose, giving a forced smile, "Our enemies will say anything to weaken your claim to the Iron Throne."

_Claim?_ I thought. _Doesn't she mean birthright?_

"It's not a claim. The throne is mine," Joffrey noticed her use of words.

"Of course, it is," she smiled as she came over. "No one believes in this foul gossip."

"Someone believes it," he countered then asked. "Father had other children? Besides me and Tommen and Myrcella?"

This caught her off guard.

"What are you asking?" she replied.

"I'm asking if he fucked other women when he grew tired of you," he clarified. "How many bastards does he have running -"

Suddenly Cersei slapped her son. The impact echoed throughout the Throne Room, causing the builders and glassmakers to go silent. Tension engulfed the room in what just happened. Cersei stared at her son in horror, realizing what she had done. Not only as a mother but as a subject to the King. Joffrey cradle his cheek then stared at the builders who watch. One made eye contact who panic going back to work. The rest soon followed.

Joffrey took a deep breath lowering his Hand, "What you just did is punishable by death."

Her eyes widen.

"You will never do it again," he warned her. "Never."

He then went over to the Iron Throne, "That will be all, Mother."

Cersei watched as her son took a seat. She then looked at me. Her face expressionless, yet her eyes held envy. She turned around and left. I stood there, watching her leave. From this incident, I know that my nephew is afraid of being challenged because of these rumors. He wants to show power by presenting the Throne Room differently. But most importantly, he can show restraint. Instead of punishing his mother for her violent act, he spared her with a warning.

It seems like I have my work cut out for me.

Little did anyone know that Cersei's slap signed the death warrants of two dozen people.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


	7. Chapter 7: Never Forgotten

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones**_

* * *

**Chapter 7: Never Forgotten**

_Lynette's POV_

I was doing some needlepoint with Septa Margaret when Tyrek barged into the room. He was out of breath, sweat on his head.

"Tyrek, you cannot barge in like that. Your cousin could have been indisposed," Septa Margaret scolded.

"Sorry, Septa Margaret, I bring urgent news," Tyrek said, still out of breath.

I got up and went to the table, pouring him a glass of clean water, handing it to him. Tyrek accepted, nodding his head in thanks chugging the clear liquid down. I gestured for him to sit down as well. No doubt he'd ran all the way up the Tower of the Hand. Once he managed to catch himself, I looked at him.

"What news do you bring?" I asked.

At first, I thought Tyrek would bring news about Father and Tybalt. Wondering if they won a battle or a message? Since arriving in King's Landing, Tyrek has been assigned to be a personal guard. He is a Squire until Father returns from the war in which he can be assigned to a Knight. Father felt like I needed someone I trusted close to protect me. Tyrek being one of them since all my guards keep changing.

Tyrek took a deep breath, "Lord Janos and the City Watch were sent out through King's Landing to purge out…"

"Purge out what?" Septa Margaret demanded.

"The bastards of Robert Baratheon," Tyrek mumbled.

Our eyes widen upon hearing this.

"By the Seven," Septa Margaret gasped. Before she began to pray.

I was dumbfounded by this. Comprehending his words. Why in the Seven Kingdoms would cause Lord Janos and the Gold Cloaks to slaughter bastards? Then I remember the conversation between Joffrey and Cersei. How Joffrey and Cersei talked about King Robert sleeping with other women and having bastards. More bastards than having children. This resulted in Cersei slapping him. In other words, Cersei signed those bastard's death warrants.

"Who made the order?" I asked.

"No one knows for sure, although many believe it was the Queen," Tyrek answered. "Rumor has it, she had the women and their children killed before Robert is aware."

I remember those allegations. It was roughly ten years ago when the royal family came to Casterly Rock, weeks before the Greyjoy rebellion. Everyone was quiet about it, much to Father's displeasure. The moment the Royal Family left, Father demoted the servant girl to another location, not wanting House Lannister to be insulted. Yet the woman sired twins. A few months later, both the mother and twins were killed. It wasn't Father's doing; he held his standards, especially when Mother confronted him. But we knew it was someone aware of the affair that killed the servant girl. Cersei held a vendetta against any woman who slept with her husband, yet she refuses him in her bed.

If this was the same incident, Cersei's soul is bound to one of the Seven Hells.

Excusing myself, I rush to see Tyrion. I reached his floor and banged on the door. There was a startling surprise, the sound of rustling when the door opens slightly. Tyrion looked with caution then sighed in relief as he came out of his room, closing the door. Lately, I noticed his strange behavior. As if he was hiding something in his room. I assume his travels through the Wall and Eyrie hasn't stopped on his lewd ways.

Tyrion looked up, seeing the trouble expression and became serious, "Lynette, what is it?"

"I need to speak with you in private," I told him.

"My chamber is a mess, let's go to the solar, shall we?" he suggested.

We made our way to the solar. I sat down on the chaise while Tyrion poured two glasses of wine. He offered me one in which I accepted. Afterward, he sat down, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"Now what seems to be the matter?" he asked.

"Tyrek came to me with terrible news," I replied.

"Go on…"

"Are you aware that Lord Janos has sent the City Watch to kill every adolescent and child who are the bastards of Robert Baratheon?" I asked.

Tyrion's eyes widen when hearing this. That answers my question that Tyrion is not aware of this.

"Do you know who gave the order?" he asked.

"Tyrek says the rumors are accusing Cersei. It has been known Cersei despises Robert's bastards," I answered.

"But why kill the bastards? How they have to threaten Cersei?" he thought to himself, taking a sip of wine.

Indeed, why kill the bastards? The only trouble bastards would have, his being a set reminder of Robert's infidelity. Then I thought back to the rumors. Those horrible rumors that Lord Stannis proclaimed in which Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen were illegitimate. That they are not sired by King Robert but were the bastard children of Jaime. The thought disgusts me. Other than the Targaryens, who would dare hold sexual attraction towards their siblings? Let alone, their platonic behavior seemed more like twins. I have seen twins of the opposite sex be close but still no sexual interest.

"I will take a look into this," Tyrion said. "Thank Tyrek for giving the news."

I nodded.

The assignment Father gave us is clear. We have to fix the mess both Cersei and Joffrey made from beheading Ned Stark. If Cersei did give the order, then she made cleaning up this mess even worse. A shade of red we do not need in our colors. No doubt, Father will hear of this.

**.o0o.**

_Tyrion's POV_

Tyrion walked his little sister back to her chambers. He genuinely appreciates that Lynette reported the incident right away. This was not good. Another mess he has to clean up. Especially if the Court is assuming that Cersei gave the order. If the Court believes that it won't be long for the Small Folk to believe the Crown could kill people just like that. He had his suspicions, yet he did not want to openly say it in front of his sister. Not yet.

Once Lynette was in her chambers, Tyrion's went to see Podrick and Bronn. Telling them to get him more information about this event. Tyrion wanted to know how many bastards were slaughtered, their genders, and their names. Along with giving each of the family five gold coins, hopefully enough to compensate for the funeral arrangements. Tyrion also wanted to know every Gold Cloak who participated and killed an innocent.

Just like in Winterfell, Tyrion has a heart for bastards, cripples, and broken things. His words of wisdom to Jon Snow, how he should wear his title as a bastard with honor and make a difference. Along with the Stark boy, Brandon Stark, designing a saddle so the cripple boy can feel tall on a horse. And when Lord Tywin assigned Podrick to be his squire, the young man told him Tybalt saved Podrick from execution on his knight's mistake. A nervous man who wanted to be a knight. Despite Podrick's few mistakes, the young man has been determined to please.

Tyrion returned to his chambers, hoping to find Shae and get her opinion on the matter. When he got closer to the private quarters of his floor, he could hear a conversation. It couldn't be Lynette and Septa Margaret, since both respect his privacy and knock on the main door or send a squire or guard. Tyrek was on the lower levels, resting after his tedious run to report. The closer he got, he heard Shae laughing and a smooth voice. One smooth voice, he did not want to be here.

He opened the doors, seeing Shae laughing while snacking on a fig. Across the Lorathi woman was none other than the Master of Whisperers, Varys. Tyrion felt his blood run cold and tense. Varys stood up as Tyrion shut the door to his bed chambers.

"You make me wait a long time," Shae greeted. "But your friend keeps me company."

_He's no friend_, Tyrion thought.

"We were just speaking of your bravery in the victory against the Stark auxiliary forces," Varys added, casually.

"It was quite a battle," Tyrion replied, although he was knocked unconscious by one of the Hilltribes men by accident. He walked over to pour another glass of wine.

"I heard you suffered a terrible head wound," Varys said as he sat down. "The Northerners are such fearsome warriors."

"And I tell him the story of we meet," Shae added happily.

Tyrion turned around, seeing Shae was eating a plate of exotic fruits and a glass of wine. There was a small canister as well, with the Spider's signature sweet of candy plums. A trick many lords and spy know about. How to get someone to talk with their guard down. By giving them rich food. It was one lesson Lord Tywin taught his children and how to be careful when visiting or being called on. Tyrion should have taught Shae this before arriving.

"To find so lovely a creature working in your father's kitchens – almost beggars' belief," Varys praised.

Or maybe not. Shae seems to know what she is doing.

Tyrion went back to pouring his glass, "Strange things do happen. You should taste her fish pie."

"I don't think Lord Varys likes fish pie," Shae murmured, plucking a grape in her mouth.

"How can you tell?" Varys playfully asked, leaning forward.

"I can always tell," she answered confidently.

Varys pulled back with a pleasant smile, very impressed.

Tyrion joined them at the table, "Men like Lord Varys, and I can't let our disadvantages get the best of us. We'll make a fisherman of him yet." As he took a sip of wine.

"I am glad your new friend was able to accompany you to the capital," Varys played along in the game, glancing at Tyrion. "Friends are such an important part of life. Unfortunate that your father didn't want her to come. But rest easy, my lord I am very good at keeping secrets," as he turned to Shae. "…for my good friends."

"Your discretion is legendary...when your friends are concerned," Tyrion countered in an act.

"How unspeakable of me to go on and on when all you want to do is rest. I will leave you," Varys said as he stood up. He took Shae's hand and kissed her knuckles. "Welcome to King's Landing, my dear. This city is made brighter by your presence." Varys then turned to Tyrion who was walking to escort the Spider out. "We have a council meeting, my lord."

Shae smiled as she excused herself, leaving the two men be. Tyrion rested his hand on the door giving Varys a warning look. Varys raised a brow.

In a low whisper, Tyrion warned, "I don't like threats."

"Who threatened you?" Varys asked quietly.

"I'm not Ned Stark. I understand the way this game is played." Tyrion reminded.

"Ned Stark was a man of honor," Varys said.

"And I am not," Tyrion warned. "Threaten me again, and I'll have you thrown into the sea."

He pulled his hand away from blocking the door and grabbed the doorknob; however, Varys stopped him. The Spiders brown eyes locking the dwarf in place.

"You might be disappointed in the results," Varys murmured. "Storms come and go, the big fish eat the little fish, and I keep on paddling." He removed his hand. "Come, my lord. We shouldn't keep the Queen waiting."

With nothing else to say, they headed down to the Small Council Room. Once more, Tyrion was displeased that Joffrey was not there. Yes, Cersei was Regent until Joffrey comes of age. Little did she know, once Lord Tywin Lannister arrives, neither of them will have power. At the center was their Cousin Alton. After formalities, Alton handed a sealed document to Cersei. The document held Robb Stark's demands to end this war.

Tyrion was impressed that Robb Stark was being considerate of ending this war peacefully. The Queen took hold of the seal and read it aloud to the Small Council. At first, the terms seemed realistic. First, the Crown must release the Stark sisters. Second, the bones of Ned Stark must be returned so he can rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell, and the remains of all those who died in his service must also be returned. So their families can honor them with proper funerals. However, it was the third request that crossed the line for Cersei.

"From this time until the end of times, we are not part of your realm, but a free and independent Kingdom of the North." This infuriated Cersei as she ripped the letter. "He has more spirit than his father, I'll give him that."

Tyrion stared at the torn document, "You've have perfected the art of tearing up papers. We can give him his father's bones back at least as a gesture of good faith."

Cersei returns to her, composure, "You'll give the Starks our reply, Cousin?"

"I will, Your Grace," Alton promised.

"Did you see my brother when you were the Starks' guest?" she asked.

This caught the Small Council's attention.

"I did," Alton confirmed. "They have not broken his spirit, Your Grace."

"If you speak with him, tell him he's not forgotten," she requested.

"I will, Your Grace," Alton promised.

"Safe travels, Cousin," Tyrion said.

Alton gave a bow, as he left with the Gold Cloaks to be given back to the Northmen escorts who waited at the gate.

"You have a deft hand with diplomacy," Tyrion complimented his sister.

Cersei having enough asked, "If that's everything . . ."

"A – a raven flew in this morning from Castle Black," Grand Maester interrupted, pulling out a scroll.

Tyrion took hold of the scroll and read it. His brows furrow in confusion.

"Trouble with the Wildlings," Varys assumed.

"That's why they're called 'Wildlings.'" Lord Baelish retorted.

"Somewhat less wild these days. It seems they've stopped killing each other and started following this king-beyond-the-wall." Varys reported.

"Another King?" Cersei bitterly scoffed. "How many is that now, five?" she laughed. "I've lost count."

Tyrion read the scroll aloud, "The Lord Commander asks that we send more men to man the Wall."

"Perhaps he's forgotten we're fighting a war," she said, "We have no men to spare."

"The cold winds are rising and the dead rise with them." Tyrion quoted.

Grand Maester Pycelle shook his head, "The Northerners are a superstitious people."

Cersei stood up, having enough along with the others.

"According to the commander, one of these dead men attacked him in his chambers. Mormont doesn't lie," Tyrion said.

"How do you kill a dead man?" Varys asked.

Tyrion stared at him, "Apparently, you burn him."

Cersei chuckled amused, "One trip to the Wall, and you come back believing in grumpkins and snarks."

They began to leave, but Tyrion wasn't done.

"I don't know what I believe, but here's a fact for you – The Night's Watch is the only thing that separates us from what lies beyond the Wall."

"I have every confidence that the brave men of the Night's Watch will protect us all," Cersei mocked as she left.

Tyrion sat there watching them leave. He remembers his conversation with Lord Commander Mormont. The man knew every member of his Watch. All the men who volunteer or paying for their crime. Innocent men were forced to join and convicted killers. Something did not feel right. He doubts about the dead rising, but this warning stirs him.

**.o0o.**

_Lynette's POV_

I needed a walk, get some fresh air from the garden. After about a week, I was getting accustomed to the smell. Yet, I needed to get out of the tower. Tyrek and two guards accompany me since Septa Margaret was making preparation for tonight's dinner. We walked through the many halls and corridors towards the central gardens.

Up ahead were a few Gold Cloaks escorting an individual. Tyrek looked at him, surprise, "Cousin Alton?"

We stopped half-way in the hall staring at each other. My eyes widen in seeing Ser Alton. He was from a lesser branch, his mother being Cynda Lannister. He is a young knight, being knighted at the age of seventeen. He was part of the military side of House Lannister, positioned in the cadet branch. In our youth, we used to play together. Especially when I visited Lannisport. Let alone during one tournament, we shared our first kiss.

If I wasn't Tywin Lannister's daughter, there would have been a chance of us being together. A small romantic affair that only lasted through kisses behind hidden corners. Sadly, Septa Margaret caught us, along with Mother. As much as they found our young love refreshing, they sat us down, bringing us back to reality. We were distant cousins, so that was not the problem. No, it was because I was in the head family, and my marriage will be political. So, our relationship had to come to an end before Lord Tywin found out.

It was hard, yet they were right. Therefore, our innocent love affair ended. A month later Alton requested to go into training for the Lannister Army. It has been two years since we last saw each other.

"My lady, Tyrek," Alton greeted.

"What brings you to King's Landing, Ser Alton?" I asked, being formal.

"I came to bring terms to from Robb Stark to the Queen Regent," Alton answered.

My eyes widen, "You were held captive?"

Alton nodded, "Hopefully, these terms are met, so Ser Jaime and I are no longer his hostages."

"Safe travels, Cousin," Tyrek said.

"Thank you, Tyrek," Alton replied.

I inhaled sharply, for I did not know that Alton was being held hostage. I knew Jaime was taken prisoner after he lost in the Whispering Woods. Not sure the next time I will see him again, despite being improper. I came over and peck him on the cheek. A kiss on the lips would give the wrong impression, but a kiss on the cheek shows familiar with the family. I then leaned up to his ear.

"Please be careful," I whispered.

Alton stepped back and bow, "I shall, my lady."

I held back a frown and nodded.

Nothing else to say, Alton continues his way out. I turned around, watching him leave. Watching what could have been going. Just before he turned around the corner, he glances over his shoulder, giving a small smile. My heart flutters, for it was the smile I remember.

Tyrek being oblivious, took my arm as we made do to our garden. He talked about random things, while my mind was lost in the past.

It was by the forest near Casterly Rock. I received a letter, a small poem from Alton days after a festivity in Lannisport. I was only seventeen, and he was eighteen. I managed to leave the castle with my ladies with Septa Margaret. We scavenged for wildflowers and berries. As my ladies distracted Septa Margaret, I went in search of Alton.

He hid amongst the trees, leaning against the trunk casual and nervous. I stepped on a twig catching his attention as he looked up, giving a smile. Hesitant, I pulled out the piece of parchment.

"Lady Lynette," he greeted.

"I came to give you your poem back," I replied.

"You cannot give a poem back," he said.

I lowered the poem and raised a brow,

He pushed off from the tree and came over, "Or a kiss. Or a thought."

I bend my head, shaking at the thought in what the poem says. I knew my place, and this cannot be. Especially whispers between Lord Renly and I. Despite my sister sending me back to Casterly Rock. I then stared at his green eyes.

"I'm sorry that you are unhappy," I murmured. "Burning, as you say. I'm sure I've done nothing to cause it."

"Nothing?" he whispered. "My lady, you are full of causes." He gently grabbed the tips of my hair, "Your hair . . . your eyes . . ." I looked down blushing slightly which he cradles my chin, "Your lips . . . All are the causes of my desire."

I took a deep breath, not sure what to do. Suddenly, Alton leaned forward slightly, bowing his head, and gently pressed his lips against my own. For a second, I kissed back, only to realize my mistake and gasped, stepping away. This was our second kiss. I hardly kiss anybody. Pecks on cheeks, yes, but never an actual kiss.

"I…I must return to my ladies," I excused myself.

Alton grabbed my hands, "I know you must. I know. Stay a moment."

Slowly he pulled me towards the trees and kissed me again. My virgin lips inexperienced, hesitant as I try to reciprocate the favor in return. Yet each kiss was gentle. Curious kiss of our third encounter. That was all we ever did. Sweet innocent kisses, since my maidenhead was sacred for marriage. Once he had hoped to claim it until reality sunk in, and our paths went separate ways.

The first love is a dream. A dream that one day you have to wake up and never have. As much as we crave in what our dreams have, as a lady of Casterly Rock, the daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister, I have my duty. I am an alliance. That is what women in noble houses are. One day my father will find me a match that will benefit House Lannister.

After the walk, I headed to my room to freshen up for dinner. I went over to my vanity, pulling out a small journal. Opening it to a page where a worn-out poem lies. Being careful, I open the poem and read it to myself. Imagining him whispering those words to me.

_"Would gods thou knewest the depths of my desire . . . then might I hope, thou nought I can deserve. . . some drops of grace would quench my scorching fire."_

I sighed, folding the poem and putting it back in the journal.

First loves before marriage can never be.

Not for a noblewoman like me.

* * *

**Alton and Lynette's memory are inspired by The Tudors Season 2 Episode 2. Again, they had an innocent, nothing further than kissing.**

**Thanks for reading and please leave a review**


	8. Chapter 8: Eliminating the Weakest Link

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Edited by xXFallenSakuraXX52**_

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones_**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Eliminating the Weakest Link**

_Lynette's POV_

Tyrion had invited me to join him for dinner. It was a small dinner with a guest. At first, I was confused, if he had a guest why would he just invite me and not include Tyrek. That is until I learned who the guest was. It was Lord Janos Slynt. The Commander of the City Watch. I was a bit hesitant at first, for I don't know if I could be civil towards a child killer. But Tyrion assured me, he will give the Commander his debt. Tyrion wanted me to be there to provide the illusion of security.

So here I was, watching Lord Janos eat at our table. It was clear this man hasn't gone through etiquette training since he used the wrong cutlery for a dish and chews with his mouth open. A part of me wanted to leave, but I was being considerate. Playing the charade of a humble lady. Answering questions and using the art of conversation. Making sure Lord Janos felt secure, not having his guard up.

Wait until Tyrion starts. My brother has a thing for bastards and cripples. Then again, he believes all dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes. The way father has treated him proves it. Although mother treats Tyrion with respect. Tybalt and I love Tyrion, then again, he has been there since our birth being the supportive brother he can be. Jaime treats Tyrion as his equal. It is only Cersei and Tywin who looked down on Tyrion. Our cousins gives the short Lannister respect for his intelligence.

Anyway, dinner went well as it can be. With false smiles and giggles.

"More wine?" Tyrion asked Lord Slynt.

Podrick came over, except he rushed in to pour wine in Janos's goblet. He's shaken hands caused the pitcher to spill wine. As the Dornish red splashed onto the Commander's hand. Janos growled, stopping him.

"Damn it, boy!" Lord Janos growled, grabbing a napkin to clean his hand.

"Apologies, my lord," Podrick replied.

"Leave us, Podrick," Tyrion orders kindly as he took the pitcher from the squire. "I believe we

know how to pour our own wine."

Podrick nodded as he gave a bow and left the room.

"That's your new squire?" Lord Janos asked. "I could've found you a proper lad."

"Myself, I prefer the improper ones," Tyrion answered.

"How do you expect to train them without mistakes," I commented. "No one is perfect."

Lord Janos nodded, taking a sip of the wine, "Mm, that's a good red. Dornish?"

"You know your wines, my lord." I complimented.

"That I do," he said with a smile. "A fine dinner, my Lord and Lady."

"Call me Tyrion, please," Tyrion insisted casually. "I'm sure you're getting used to fine dinners, now that you are a lord."

"Maybe I'll hire this cook of yours," Lord Janos joked.

"Wars have been started for less," Tyrion replied.

Both men laughed while I held a false little smile. I was merely a pretty face in the room to secure comfort for the man. Much to my displeasure. The abuse of power and murdering of innocents. If the rumors are true, Cersei has committed genocide on Robert Baratheon's illegitimate children. Tyrion and I want to know why a bastard is such a threat to her.

Tyrion nodded to me, signifying it was time.

"I heard there was some trouble in Littlefinger's brothel the other night," Tyrion commented.

Lord Janos nodded, "Nasty business. Had to be done."

"Yes, of course," I said, tasting the bile in my mouth. "The City Watch must keep the peace."

"Only I hadn't realized peace depended on killing babies," Tyrion added.

Lord Janos stared at us with caution, "Orders are orders."

"Quite right," Tyrion agreed. "Especially the Queen's orders."

"I never said they were the Queen's orders," Janos corrected.

_Wait, Cersei didn't give the order?_ I thought.

If she didn't give the order, then who would order the City Watch to murder over twenty people? The only people who have power of the City Watch is the King and the Small Council. Except for a Grand Maester and Master of Coin and Master of Whisperers. Mainly a King, the Hand, Master of Law, Master of War, and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard have authority over the City Watch. Jaime was a hostage, so he can't give the command. Tyrion would rather drink himself to death than order an execution on innocents. It wouldn't be father since he is dealing with a rebellion. And since there is no current position of Master of Law and Master of War currently that only leave…No.

"No, but who else would want to murder King Robert's bastards?" Tyrion asked. "She is always a jealous woman."

"You know your sister better than I do," Janos concluded, taking another sip of wine.

The rumors that Cersei had many affairs with Jaime, and that the children are his and not Roberts. Disgusting rumors of incest by Stannis Baratheon.

"You've heard the awful rumors about my brother and sister?" Tyrion asked.

"I don't listen to filth," Janos answered, sternly.

"That's good of you, but you have heard them?" I murmured, taking a sip of wine.

The conversation was making Lord Janos uncomfortable.

"I suppose people who do believe that filth would consider Robert's basters to be better claimants to the throne than Cersei's children," Tyrion added.

"Joffrey is my King. The rest doesn't interest me. "Janos said, irritated.

"I appreciate your loyalty," Tyrion said. "Tell me, when your men slaughtered Ned Stark's men in the throne room, did you give the order?"

"I did, and I would again," Janos answered, looking at Tyrion. "The man was a traitor. He tried to buy my loyalty."

"The fool," Tyrion said dramatically. "He had no idea you were already bought."

"Are you drunk," Janos snapped. "I'll not have my honor questioned by an imp!"

What remark will Tyrion give? Out of all the nicknames given to people with dwarfism, Tyrion hated that one word. Imp. As if comparing him to a little demon or an evil spirit. The majority of Tyrion's life he has been the blame for his mother's death, and the degrading of father's reputation during the Mad King's reign. So, calling Tyrion an Imp will have consequences. As our second motto goes. 'A Lannister will always pay his debt.'

Tyrion gave a relaxing smile, "I'm not questioning your honor, Lord Janos. I'm denying its existence."

Lord Janos stormed up from his seat. "You think I'll stand here and take this from you, dwarf—"

_It was__nice meeting you, Lord Janos,_ I thought.

Tyrion agreed as his mirth turn to solemn, "Dwarf? Mm, you should have stopped at the imp. And, yes, you will stand here and take it from me, unless you'd like to take it from my friend here."

Out of nowhere, Bronn appeared. He had come from the balcony with silent feet of a cat. His hand resting on his sword casually. Lord Janos turned around, baffle to see Bronn standing. The white-bearded man stared at Tyrion furiously.

"I intend to serve as Hand of the King until my father returns from the war. And seeing as you betrayed the last Hand of the King, well, I just wouldn't feel safe with you lurking about." Tyrion said.

_Better to get rid of the weakest link_, I thought.

"What are you t—" Janos was baffled. "My friends at court will not allow this. The Queen herself, granted-

"The Queen Regent," I corrected, standing up. "And you are a fool to believe she is your friend. You are merely a pawn in her game."

"We shall hear what King Joffrey has to say about this," Janos challenged.

"No, he'll shan't," Tyrion concluded.

Footsteps could be heard as several Gold Cloaks entered the room. Lord Janos was confused as he stared at his men. They stood there, waiting for the temporary Hand of the King to give the order.

"There's a ship leaving for Eastwatch-by-the-Sea tonight," Tyrion said. "From there, I'm afraid it's rather a long walk to Castle Black. I hope you enjoy the Wall. I found it surprisingly beautiful...in a brutal, horribly uncomfortable sort of way."

"The lads will escort you," Bronn said. "The streets aren't safe at night, my lord."

Especially now that the people are after Lord Janos's head and those who were part of the massacre.

"These men are under my command!" Janos growled, "I command you to arrest this cutthroat."

"His name is Bronn, and he is the new commander of the City Watch," Tyrion replied.

Bronn gave an appreciated look, as he nods his head. "Boys."

Two of the City Watch grabbed Lord Janos, escorting him out. Janos cried out, "I have friends at court, powerful friends! The King himself made me a lord!"

His eyes widen as he was dragged away from the room. Sadly, the recently appointed Lord doesn't realize, there is no such thing as a friend in court. No one is a true friend unless they are from your homeland and castle. Otherwise, there is no such thing as friendship.

Bronn took a seat where Lord Janos had occupied. Tyrion grabbed the pitcher, pouring a fresh cup to the new Commander of the City Watch. The Sellsword gave him a nod in gratitude, accepting the cup.

"To the new Lord Commander," I praised, raising a chalice.

Bronn nodded as Tyrion, and he clanked our chalices together and took a sip. Tyrion had a contemplating question rolling through his head. I watched him waiting for the moment to ask what it was.

"If I told you to murder an infant girl, say, still at her mother's breast, would you do it without question?" Tyrion asked.

Bronn paused, staring at his employer. It is a serious question. Tyrion wanted to know if Bronn is an obedient dog-like Lord Janos. Or does he have morality and can think the difference between right and wrong.

"Without question? No," Bronn answered.

I sighed in relief.

"I'd ask, 'How much?'" the Sellsword added.

I huffed through my nose in disapproval and stared at Tyrion. My brother grasped what his Sellsword said. At least Bronn is not an obedient dog. I waited for about twenty more minutes, as Bronn drank and ate his meal before leaving. After another five minutes, assuring our privacy, I looked at Tyrion.

"If Cersei did not give the order, then who?" I asked.

Tyrion remained quiet.

"There are only five people who have the authority over the City Watch. The Master of Law and the Master of Ships are vacant currently. You didn't give the order, so that leaves one person…" I started not wanting to admit it. "This is my fault."

"Are you inquiring about the event that happened in the throne room?" he asked.

I nodded. "Only Cersei and Joffrey talked about Robert's bastards. What caught me off guard is that Cersei said claimant instead of birthright. If Joffrey did give the order, Cersei signed those death warrants with a slap."

Tyrion sighed, taking another sip of wine, "We can't know for sure."

He right. We don't know for sure if Joffrey did give the order, or Cersei did abuse her power as Queen Regent.

"How about tomorrow night, we have dinner again. Nothing serious, just laughs, and Tyrek can join us," I offered.

"I could use the entertainment," Tyrion said.

I nodded with a smile.

I nodded as I got up and pecked him on the cheek, "Goodnight, Tyrion."

"Goodnight, Lynette," Tyrion said. "Thank you again."

"Anything for you, brother," I assured, leaving the room.

Hopefully, tomorrow's dinner will go well.

.**o0o**.

The following day my thoughts linger about what happened last night. Wondering if Cersei actually gave the order or was it someone else. A part of me deducted members of the Small Council, leaving all but Cersei, Tyrion, and Joffrey. Tyrion wouldn't have done it, so that leaves Cersei and Joffrey. Cersei has ordered a death before back in Westerlands. But could Joffrey have done it?

"If you keep thinking like that, you'll gain wrinkles," Septa Margaret scolded.

"Is it that noticeable?" I asked with a sigh,

"It is," she said. "Now, what is troubling you."

"I rather not say until I know it is for certain," I replied.

"Smart words, especially where we're at," she said as she sat up, setting her needlepoint aside and came over to the balcony. "Blackwater Bay still doesn't have the same beauty as Sunset Sea. If only the stench could be resolved."

"And how is your faith in your vocation?" I asked. "You break more sins than anyone."

"I'll tell you when you are no longer under my wing," she said, tucking a strand of hair out of my face. "Now, let's get you ready. You do have a meal with your brother."

I nodded as Septa Margaret got me ready for the day. Finally, my first gown arrived. It was more casual than my dresses back in the Westerlands. But due to the climate being a bit warmer, I had ordered this custom gown. It wasn't flowy or wrapped like Cersei's attire. Taking more influences of the Serrettes in Lannister colors.

After putting on my daily chemise and corset, I secure a slip-on top. Septa Margaret helped me put on the burgundy dress, the top portion was constructed, as it had a square neckline. With the main part of the dress plunging down from the fitted shoulders, the chemise aspect of the dress sits straight across the chest in a series of pleats. Lines of velvet to make of horizontal front lacing across the bodice. Along with side lacing. The sleeves only cover a third of my arm, as my chemise is exposed to the rest until my forearms are covered in cuffs in a shade of gold. As there was golden trim throughout the dress. To finish off the dress, I wore my pendant of the Lannister crest on a peacock feather, a golden belt, and my hair kept in a Westerlands braid.

Now I look like a Westerlands lady. And not a Crownlands maiden girl. It may work on Myrcella, but it doesn't work for me. Not since I was sixteen. Like I was a flower. No, I was born in the mountains.

The rest of the day was usual with walking around the garden and socializing with courtiers. I tried to visit the King, but Joffrey was occupied at the moment. Therefore, I spent my afternoon with Myrcella. My niece has grown since the last time I saw her. She is twelve now, having her mother's beauty with a gentle heart.

"Aunt Lynette," Myrcella started.

"Yes, Myrcella?" I replied.

She blushed, looking around in the small garden. There was no one but our two Septa's who sat on the other side with their scriptures.

"How old were you when you flowered?" she asked.

I chuckled softly, not expecting it, "I was twelve when I flowered. Why, have you not flowered?"

"I…I have not," she mumbled.

I smiled softly, "Some girls flower at ten while others flower at fourteen."

"And when I flower, I will be wed?" she asked.

"No, some families marry their daughter's off when they flower, but they do not consummate right away. Look at me, I am twenty, and I have not been married yet." I assure her.

"How come?" she asked.

"Well, my mother wanted me in a proper age to bear a child while your grandfather is securing a match," I explained.

"You and Uncle Renly were courting before," she said. "It's a shame what he is doing. And tossing you aside."

"My courtship with Lord Renly was not official, Myrcella. Although, if I was his wife, I make sure he doesn't betray the Crown."

Myrcella giggled, imagining what I would have done.

I took her hand, giving it a squeeze, "One day, King Joffrey and either grandfather or Lord Tyrion will find you a match. A suitable match that will aid the Crown."

"Mother says I should love my children when I marry," she said.

"A mother's love is the most powerful love in the world. I hope your husband is kind to you, and you both fall in love, my dear. But love doesn't happen fast. It takes time, trust, and communication."

Myrcella nodded, giving me a hug. I know she is scared, being the age to flower. I was nervous as well when I flowered and hearing possible suitors. But as a noble and a royal, she will be married out due of politics.

**.o0o.**

Later on, evening came, as Tyrek and I joined Tyrion on his floor. It was a simple meal, as Dornish wine was being served. Tyrion was working hard to improve the young Lannisters' tolerance towards wine as Tyrek's cheeks started to fluster red.

"Careful, or you might poison his liver," I murmured, taking another sip of wine.

Tyrek hiccuped, "That can happen?"

"Only if you drink a barrel, cousin," Tyrion assured with a smirk. "Say, what was that tongue twister poem about wine and poison."

"The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle, the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true," I quoted.

"That's the one," Tyrion praised.

"But they broke the chalice from the palace and replace it with a flagon. With the figure of a dragon. The pellet with the poison's in the flagon with the dragon. The vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true." I finished off the tongue twister.

Tyrek's eyes widen, astonished that I knew the jousting tongue twister, "How do you know that?"

"I have him for a brother," I teased, nodding my head toward Tyrion, who laughed.

Time went on as we enjoyed our meal and hearing more stories of Tyrion's adventures. Until Tyrek tongue was twisting with words, that he felt embarrassed. Tyrion laughed it off, suggesting he head off to bed being escorted by Podrick. I stood up, needing some air, and walked up to the balcony to clear my head. Tyrion remained where he was when there was shouting coming in. It was Cersei. Tyrion gestured for me to stay at the balcony. When Cersei is angry and I am around, she tends to lash at either of us. I step further to the side to be out of sight but stay close listening to the conversation. Peeking through the curtains seeing what was going on.

"Lord Janos Slynt was Commander of the City Watch. You had no right to exile him," Cersei seethed as she barged into the room.

Tyrion slammed his napkin on the table, "I have every right. I am the King's hand."

"You're serving as the King's Hand till father gets here," Cersei reminded, lofty as she walked around him. "I am Queen Regent."

"Listen to me, Queen Regent," Tyrion replied. "You're losing the people. Do you hear me?"

Cersei turned around, giving a laugh, "The people. You think I care?"

She came back, standing across from him.

"You might find it difficult to rule over millions who want you dead," Tyrion tried to reason. "Half the city will starve when winter comes. The other half will plot to overthrow you. And your gold-plated thugs just gave them their rally cry— 'The Queen Slaughters babies.' You don't have the decency to deny it."

Cersei rubbed her hands together. Her lips formed a straight line with disappointment. Although something felt off. Her body language doesn't say she did it. She avoided eye contact as she walked towards the balcony but stopped at the entrance.

Tyrion realized this, "It wasn't you who gave the order, was it? Joffrey didn't even tell you." He leaned over. "Did he tell you? I imagine that would be even worse."

"He did what needed to be done," she said, then barked. "You want to be Hand of the King? You want to rule? This is what ruling is – lying on a bed of weeds, ripping them out by the root, one by one, before they strangle you in your sleep."

"I'm no king, but I think there's more to ruling than that," he countered calmly.

"I don't care what you think!" Cersei shouted. "You've never taken it seriously. You haven't, Jaime hasn't." She then sat, taking a deep breath. "It's all fallen on me."

There was a moment of silence. I was shocked to see my sister vulnerable. She always appeared strong and poise. But now I see her being vulnerable, tired and exhausted from a high expectation of being a Queen and the daughter of Tywin Lannister. She always tries to prove herself better than any of the boys.

"As has Jaime repeatedly, according to Stannis Baratheon," he replied.

Cersei raised her hand, but stop as her bottom lip quiver, "You're funny." She scoffed, "You've always been funny . . . but none of your jokes will ever match the first one, will they? You remember? Back when you ripped my mother open on your way out of her, and she bled to death?"

Tyrion's body tense as he said softly, "She was my mother, too."

"Mother is gone. . . for the sake of you," she murmured bitterly. "There's no bigger joke in the world than that."

With nothing else to say, she stood up and left. Slamming all the doors on her way out. I waited for a moment until it was clear. I came over and wrapped my arms around Tyrion, giving him a hug. He relaxed into it, taking a deep breath. He rested a hand on my forearm, appreciating it. It has been thirty-two years since Joanna Lannister's untimely death. However, it was not Tyrion's fault. By the laws of men, a child cannot be blamed for a mother's death on the birthing bed. Yet Cersei blames Tyrion since she was four years old when he was born. Father blames him because of what the Mad King said. How Tyrion will remind Tywin of humility.

"You are not a joke," I told him. "She may look down on you, but Tybalt and I look up to you."

"Thank you," he sighed, gently squeezing my arm.

"Always," I said.

"You need to be careful with Joffrey," he warned. "He has become more violent than anticipated."

I nodded. I thought I was dealing with a spoil, arrogant adolescent. It seems Cersei raised him to be a cunt. Blinded by pride and greed. Tywin gave her a mission to make her son a Lannister King. She has done the opposite. For father never acted this way.

"As do you," I warned him.

A cub has sharp claws and a roar that can summon the Kingsguard to execute us. We are on thin ice, and we need to get it sorted before father arrives.

* * *

**Tongue Twister comes from the movie "The Court Jester."**

**Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!**


	9. Chapter 9: A Favor

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones**_

* * *

**Chapter 9: A favor**

It was morning, breakfast already delivered to Tyrion's private chamber at the Hand of the King Tower. Tyrion was thankful to have a desk in his chamber. One for public, and one for private. He keeps his important documents in his private chamber, which only four people have access too. Podrick, Bronn, Shae, and himself. The other office is where he addresses the other lords and council members.

He picked up a document reading about yesterday's event. Shae was dressed, as she came in fiddling around the table plucking some grapes. Lately she has been bored since being in King's Landing. They have stayed roughly two months now and she has been kept on the same floor. She couldn't go down unless encountering Lady Lynette. And every time the lioness was on the floor, Shae hid in the Master bedroom.

Tyrion told her Lynette is loyal to the family. To loyal that she can't lie for the sake of it in front of Lord Tywin. But it was Septa Margaret Tyrion is most afraid of.

"You won't let me leave this room," Shae started. "You won't let me –"

"Shh, shh, keep your voice down," Tyrion warned calmly, still focusing on the document.

Shae turned around giving him a hard look, "Why? You think your father can hear me?" She then bellowed. "He's 300 miles away!"

That startled Tyrion to look away from his document. He paused listening closely in case his sister and her septa heard. Then he remembered Lynette has been having breakfast with their youngest niece and nephew. Tyrion then sighed putting the document down.

"I don't intend for you to stay here. I might be able to bring you into the castle's kitchens. Again, only temporary," he tried to reason.

Shae walked around, "Every man who has tasted my cooking has told me what a good whore I am."

"But you wouldn't be a cook. You'd pose as a scullion," he explained.

Shae arched her brow, "Scullion? What is a scullion?"

Tyrion tried not to smirk, "Kitchen wench."

"A kitchen wench?" she asked bitterly.

"Yes, but –" he answered.

Shae marched over to him. Her anger was seething, her skin starting to turn red. She rested her hands on her hips, "Cleaning pots? Is that how my lion wants to see me?"

"Your lion wants to see you alive," he tried to reason, as he stood up and walked over to her. "We've come to a dangerous place. My older sister wants to hurt me. She'll look for any weakness she can find. She can't know about you."

"I'm the weakness?" she asked, looking down at him being a neck and head taller.

"It's a compliment, my lady," he replied.

"How is being a weakness a compliment?" she asked again.

Tyrion pouted looking down, as he fiddled with the loose fabric of her dress. It was hard for Tyrion to explain that the women he truly loves he hears on losing. Lynette and Myrcella, yet that is familiar love of a brother. A brother bound to protect their female siblings. Then there was Tysha, but he does not want to go there again. So, Shae, a woman who loves him for him without money. The Lorathi has not asked much from him, other than his attention. Not gold or jewelry. Only him.

If Cersei or his father finds out, he can't refuse. The Children of Tywin Lannister were raised to please the patriarch of the House. He doesn't want Shae to go through what Tysha went through. Raped by a dozen soldiers and be forced to rape her as well.

"Language can be a bit tricky here," he murmured.

"Oh, I'm too stupid to understand. The stupid foreign girl," she sarcastically said then lean closer serious. "I am not a kitchen wench."

Tyrion lean up to give her a kiss, except she pulled back. She pulled back her dress and left the room. Tyrion sighed, knowing he needed to figure this out before Shae kills him and not Cersei. There is one person he can go to solve this. Hoping Septa Margaret doesn't smell a lie.

**.o0o.**

_Lynette's POV_

Septa Margaret yanked on the strings that I gasped feeling my organs being adjusted and airs leaving my lungs. Damn the invention of the corset. I know it has a purpose of supporting breasts and straighten backs. But the process of getting it on is hell.

"Don't reach," Septa Margaret warned.

The temptation to grab the bedpost for support. Only if I did, the strings will pop and the boning will snap. Septa Margaret snapped the lower strings, causing more air to leave my lungs.

"Tyrion… wait!" Tyrek called out, as the doors burst open.

Septa Margaret and I glanced over our shoulders to see Tyrion. He opened his mouth to speak, only to slant ajar. My eyes widen in horror since I was indisposed. I was wearing my chemise, underskirt, and corset.

"Don't stand there like a cod fish, get out!" Septa Margaret chastised.

Tyrion quickly shut the door, but not all the way.

"I need your help in something," Tyrion called out.

"Now's not the time," I snapped, as the same time Septa Margaret yanked on the strings.

"I thought you be dressed already and having breakfast with Tommen and Myrcella," he said.

"Cersei canceled it," I groaned. "Can this wait until after I'm dress."

"No offense, but you women take- "

"Finish that sentence and I will have my guards put you in a corset," I seethed.

"I'll be in the solar," Tyrion finished, shutting the door.

"Men," Septa Margaret said.

"You think," I panted.

"Last pull, grab the post," she advised.

I did so, as she pulled the strings that I clenched the wood while my back straightens up. I took several deep breaths, allowing my body to adjust then relaxed. Septa Margaret doesn't go on the extremes to make the appearances of thin stature. No, she only tightens to a point I needed the physical support.

Once I dressed, I combed my hair, doing two side braids to keep the hair out of my face and came out. Tyrion was in the Solar, swirling a glass of wine in his hand.

"Last time you saw me indisposed was swimming at the lake," I teased.

"Don't remind me," he grumbled taking a huge gulp of wine.

"Well, there is a reason why Tyrek tried to stop you," I said, plucking a grape. "Now, what do you need to talk about?"

Tyrion set the glass down, "There is a _woman_ who needs a job?"

"Since when are into charity work for women?" I asked then stopped realizing when he said woman. "Are you kidding me. A whore?"

"She's not a whore," Tyrion assured.

"Is that why you've been so discrete these past few months?" I asked. "Let me guess, that massive crate was not filled with your trophies."

Tyrion shrugged.

"Is she upstairs?" I asked.

Tyrion remained quiet.

I took a deep breath and spoke in Valyrian, "_Don't you know the risk? If father finds her, he will do more than the last woman you kept in your company longer than a day. Or what he did to grandfather's second mistress. The walk of atonement_."

Tyrion open his mouth to speak back in Valyrian but gave up. Valyrian is a complicated language since there is a rhythm and pattern. Also needing to be careful not to mix the language with low Valyrian also known as Bastard Valyrian in the Old Empire of Ghis.

"I'm sure there is a position in the kitchen," I said.

"I don't want her in the kitchen," he said.

"Tyrion," I groaned.

He gave an innocent smile.

"What are her skills?" I asked. "That doesn't involve a bed and on her knees?"

Tyrion tried to think about it then paused. I took a deep breath shaking my head. Why do men think women with their cocks? The only exception is women in their family. As if women are only good for is pleasuring men and procreating.

"How is she on socializing?" I asked.

"Varys finds her amusing," he answered.

"Lord Varys knows?" I growled. "Who else knows about her?"

"Bronn and Podrick," he said.

"She is no longer a secret," I sighed, standing up and walking over to the balcony is I don't end up slapping him. "What about talents?" I asked. "Music, literature, sewing?"

"She has a basic education; I _assume_ she was from a merchant family." He answered.

"Assume? Tyrion who is this woman. What Kingdom is she from?"

"She's Lorathi."

"Seven Hells, you know their accents are more distinct than any of those in Essos."

"Lynette, please…" he begged.

"I can't make her a lady," I said walking back to the table. "Nor a seamstress. If she is good at social skills and cleaning, then she has a chance as a handmaiden."

"I think she can be a good handmaiden," he replied with a smile.

"The problem is, the ladies in court are able to detect if a woman is not trained as a servant," I said.

Tyrion paused thinking about it, "I think I know the perfect Lady who needs a new handmaiden."

"And who that be?" I asked.

"Lady Sansa," he answered.

I thought about it, "A new face could earn the girl's trust. After what Cersei and Joffrey did, she's walking on thin glass."

Tyrion nodded, "By any chance can you befriend the girl."

"You know father wants me to keep a close eye on Joffrey," I said. "It's already hard enough to get time with him. But I want reports, if Joffrey does something to Sansa I need to know,"

Tyrion nodded, finishing his glass of wine, "Thank you, sweet sister."

He got up walking to the door.

"And Tyrion," I called out.

He stopped facing me, "Yes?"

"Be careful," I warned. "Don't put your heart on your sleeve."

Tyrion knew what I meant. The only love us Lannisters can have, is that of family. Women who marry in without the Lannister name has to earn their respect. Lannister women who marry out, we stay loyal to our maiden family and convert our children to the Lannister belief. When a Lannister falls in love, they have a weakness. It happened to father, when he loved Joanna Lannister. The advice Cersei gave me when I had a painful moonblood when I visited was, "Love your children."

Tyrion only nodded and left. Cersei despised Tyrion because her mother had complications on the birthing bed. She will take any opportunity to tear him down. I pray to the Seven that Tyrion doesn't get hurt again.

Tyrek knocked on the door.

"Enter," I called out.

Tyrek entered, "Sorry about him."

"It's fine. Tyrion is Tyrion, he learned his lesson," I assured him.

Tyrek nodded, "His Grace asked for your company."

"Where at?" I asked.

"He shall be picking you up," Tyrek said.

I looked at Septa Margaret who was surprised, "We better get your hair settled."

I nodded, as we rushed back into my bedroom in which Septa Margaret started braiding my hair to be presentable. Getting hair done, jewelry set, and shoes laced. It would be twenty minutes when Tyrek announced the King was here. Securing my pendant, I exited the room to see my nephew there.

"Your Grace," I said with a curtsy. "What a pleasant surprise and honor."

"Yes, my lady," Joffrey replied with a smile. "I was wondering if you can accompany for a walk."

"Of course," I said.

Tyrek and Septa Margaret came forward, but I turned to her gesturing she stays for now. She nodded as Tyrek followed, walking in front of the Kingsguard who were ten feet behind us. Joffrey offered his arm, in which I accepted. We walked through the corridors when Joffrey redirected somewhere else.

"Your Grace, where are we going?" I asked.

"It's a surprise," Joffrey promised.

"You and surprises, should I be afraid?" I jest.

Joffrey chuckled softly, one that made me smile when he was younger. We made our way down, in the direction where the dungeons were kept. I slightly panicked though kept my composure until Joffrey open the door to a massive chamber. All around was filled with dragon skulls.

"Are these…" I couldn't finish amazed.

"Yes, the skulls of the Targaryen Dynasty," Joffrey said with praise. "Mother never let me come down. Now that I am king, I can see them whenever I want."

"They're massive," I awed, many being taller than us.

"Indeed," Joffrey agreed. "Shame they went extinct."

"Sometimes, some creatures must go extinct in order for humanity to survive." I said. "Especially with the Targaryen, then we wouldn't be born."

Joffrey nodded, as he led to the biggest skull belonging to Balerion the Dred. "The Black Dread."

"The dragon that united Six of the Seven Kingdoms," I said. "If not the last living creature in all the world who saw Valyria in its glory."

"With fire and blood," Joffrey added.

I nodded then looked at him. Seeing the wonder and awe of a once powerful dynasty. Maybe the first hundred and thirty years filled with power and authority. Until the Dance of Dragons, where every other king was a perfect ruler or not. I pray that I can guide Joffrey in the right direction. Not another Aegon the Unworthy or worse Maegor the Cruel. Joffrey once told me the last time I was in King's Landing, that his favorite Targaryen King was Maegor the Cruel.

* * *

**Sorry for the short chapter.**

**In search for a Beta for this story. PM me if you are interested. I give credit to the Beta when posting a chapter. **

**Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


	10. Chapter 10: Myrcella's Hand

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones**_

* * *

**Chapter 10: Myrcella's Hand**

_Tyrion's POV_

Tyrion had a plan to eradicate any possible moles in the Small Council. One that will have a price that might have Cersei killing him. Cersei is getting to close to the Council. She knows things that a Queen Regent should not know of. Also, after getting more information about Ned Stark's arrest...it was clear someone stood him up. Letting Cersei know of the dirty secret.

Tyrion knew of his older siblings' dirty secret. When he was an adolescent, he had his suspicions that Jaime and Cersei were awfully close. Before Lady Anne came and Jaime conscripted to serve the Kingsguard. Now the conversation he had with Cersei a few days ago, it was clear the twins were more than siblings. Not a simple twin bond. And if the rumors are true, Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are not King Robert's children. Therefore, Tyrion needed to make sure to protect his family. The children…well, Myrcella and Tommen are worth protecting.

Therefore, Tyrion needs to find the person who snitched on Ned Stark. As his father said, "You _will_ serve as Hand of the King in my stead. You _will_ bring that boy-king to heel and his mother too if needs be. And if you get so much as a whiff of treason from any of the rest: Baelish, Varys, Pycelle –- heads, spikes, wall."

Sending Lord Janos was mercy. Now it was time to find the next traitor in the small Council. What better way to catch a traitor than using the queen's second most precious thing? He can't do anything to Joffrey. No, but Myrcella is another story. He has made his plan clear. Arranging who gets which candidate and see who snitches to Cersei. There is another person he needed to test.

So, when morning came, Shae gave him a kiss before leaving to serve Lady Sansa. Lynette was right, Lady Sansa needed a good handmaiden. One who didn't serve Cersei. Tyrion will know what the young Stark is going through. Joffrey shows signs of disinterests in the young maiden. If not, Lady Sansa being Robb Stark's sister. There is a chance the monarchy will trade the girl for Jaime.

He would have done so in his main study for the Hand of the King but felt it will make his specimens cautious like any animal. Therefore, he had the meetings in the Hand's private solar where he tricked Lord Janos. His first suspect was Grand Maester Pycelle. The old lecher slowly entered the Hand's study where Tyrion was. In his hand was a blue vial. There was another reason why Tyrion asked Pycelle to come here. The stress of being Hand of the King the last two months has disrupted his bowel movement.

"Oh, thank the Gods," Tyrion praised, accepting the vial. "I haven't had a proper shit in six days."

Maester Pycelle chuckled, "I've encountered this problem before, my Lord. The stresses of power often have this insalubrious effect. Two drops with water daily."

Tyrion examined the vial and nodded.

"Right. I'm so grateful to have a man of your vast knowledge and wisdom on my side," Tyrion complimented, then gestured to the chair. "Please."

"Thank you, my lord," Pycelle said, sitting down.

"I can trust you, Pycelle, can I not?" Tyrion asked, beginning his game.

"Why, yes, of course, my lord," Pycelle assured.

"These are perilous times. And the Crown must forge new alliances. And these alliances must often be sealed in matrimony." Tyrion said, sitting down across from him.

"Matrimony, huh?" Pycelle replied, intrigued. "Yes."

"I'm trusting the council with these plans, but the queen mustn't know," Tyrion continued, staring into Pycelle's blue eyes. "We can't have her meddling in affairs that could determine the future of the realm. There's too much at stake."

"Oh, yes, yes. Indeed yes," Pycelle nodded in agreement. "I shall be silent as the grave."

Tyrion got up walking over towards the bar, "I'm brokering an alliance with House Martell of Dorne. Princess Myrcella will wed their youngest son when she comes of age, ensuring their loyalty and their army should we need it."

"Myrcella sent away to Dorne?" Pycelle asked, concerned if not surprise.

Tyrion knew why Pycelle was a concern. House Baratheon and House Lannister are not in good terms with House Martell. Mainly because during the Siege of King's Landing eighteen years ago, Elia Martell and her two children Rhaenys and Aegon felled victim. They were murdered by Ser Gregor Clegane. No one is sure if the Mountain was in a blind rage and didn't realize who they were or… as the rumors went, Tywin Lannister ordered their execution. Eradicating and Targaryens of the Mad King's legacy.

Prince Doran has obeyed his vows as Warden of Dorne. However, the Dornish do not forget the crimes that have been committed upon their Princess and her children. If Pycelle is the spy, then Myrcella will be the compensation to begin the restoration of the alliance. Prince Trystane is the closest of age.

He walked back to Pycelle with two chalices of wine, handing one to Pycelle.

"But remember, the Queen mustn't know," Tyrion casually warned.

**.o0o.**

Varys sat in the chair where Pycelle once occupied. The Eunuch being considerate as he accepted the chalice. An intrigue interest as his lips curled into a smile. Tyrion had invited him on guidance. Between the three possible traitors, Varys is far clever in detecting a lie with his Little Birds fluttering about. Either they are children to servants in the shadows or common people living on the streets. He has his resources. In fact, Tyrion didn't tell Shae of his plan in fear that Varys might coax her with exotic food again.

"Ooh, _'the queen mustn't know,_'" Varys cooed, accepting the chalice of wine. "I love conversations that begin this way."

Tyrion merely smiles, knowing Varys loves secrets and gossip. He stepped closer to the Eunuch adding to the dramatic effect as he whispers.

"I plan to marry Princess Myrcella off to Theon Greyjoy."

Varys's hazel eyes widen as his curious grin dropped. As if he has heard something stupid, "Theon Greyjoy?" he set his wine down. "Forgive me, my Lord, but how? He grew up a ward of Winterfell. He fights for Robb Stark."

Tyrion was prepared for this question.

"Precisely. Theon's father loathes the Starks and will convince the boy to come to our side," Tyrion said, walking away. "Greyjoy can destroy the Northern Army from within, and we can have his father's ships."

Although, there is still some tension between House Lannister and House Greyjoy. After all, after eight years of King Robert's reign, the marriage between Baratheon and Lannister going on for six years with Joffrey and Myrcella already born and children, mere tots, Balon Greyjoy thought it would be the perfect time to start a rebellion, thinking the Seven Kingdoms were still recovering. As the seafaring pirates attack Lannisport.

Tyrion remembers that day, seeing the smoke and fire off in the distance. As he tried to comfort his younger siblings while Tywin Lannister gathers his army under short notice to aid their cousins and civilians. The rage Tywin was in could have been the next Rains of Castamere. Robert itching for a battle to bring justice for his wife's family brought the kingdoms together once more. Practically exterminating the Iron Born, leaving them a small population while Theon and Yara were the last of Balon's children.

Tyrion hopes that Varys is not a spy. For out of the three possible matches, Theon would be the last, if not further down his list of marrying his niece too. Theon was basically him, well…a less intelligent him.

"But remember, you must tell no one," Tyrion said, turning around.

**.o0o.**

"Tell no one what?" Lord Baelish asked, leaning against the table.

Tyrion took a deep breath, caressing his wine, "I plan to wed Princess Myrcella to Robin Arryn of the Vale."

Littlefinger arched a brow.

"Lysa is not fond of me. But perhaps the promise of a royal match will convince her to let bygones be bygones," Tyrion started.

"She imprisoned you," Littlefinger reminded. "She tried to execute you. And you offer her son a princess?"

Tyrion made his way over, "For men in our position, holding grudges can be an encumbrance, don't you think?"

"And I suppose you want me to broker this agreement?" Littlefinger asked.

"Who better?" Tyrion smiled.

Littlefinger stood up, still cautious as he closed his hands together. He paced around, "Yes, I could sing this song to Lysa if I cared to." He stopped at the balcony and turned to face Tyrion, "What's in it for me?"

Tyrion paused, thinking about it, "The gratitude of the people of Westeros for helping to end this war, the adoration of the King for bringing the Vale back into the fold…and Harrenhal."

"Harrenhal is cursed," Littlefinger reminded, turning his back to the dwarf.

"Never took you for a superstitious man. By all means, tear it down and rebuild it. You'll be able to afford it," Tyrion suggested. "I plan to make you Lord of the Riverlands."

Littlefinger now caught interest turned around, "With a single stroke, you'd made me one of the greatest lords in the realm."

"You served my family well in the matter of the succession," Tyrion said, taking a sip of wine.

"So did Janos Slynt, and he was given Harrenhal, too." Littlefinger reminded. "Until you snatched it away."

"I need you to deliver Lysa Arryn. I didn't need Janos Slynt," Tyrion insisted, staring at the mockingbird's blue eyes. "It's settled, then?"

Littlefinger did not argue or declined.

"Good," Tyrion said, as he started making his way over to the bar then stop facing the Lord. "Oh, and remember-"

"The Queen mustn't know." Lord Baelish finished.

Tyrion nodded, finishing his glass.

**.o0o.**

_Lynette's POV_

"Sometimes, I wonder how you can consume so much wine and not drop dead," I murmured.

Tyrion had invited me for dinner yet again. I sat in the chair as he walked around. Something was on his mind. Could it possibly be the Small Council coming to his private quarters all day. First, it was Maester Pycelle, then Lord Varys, and finally, Petyr Baelish. So why does Tyrion have a perverted Maester, a Eunuch, and a procurer come to the Tower of the Hand at different times? And now, here I was.

"It's a talent," Tyrion murmured.

"One that will make shorten your life," I countered.

"Do you expect me to drink tea and juice the rest of my life?" he asked teasingly. "Or unfiltered water."

"Not unless you boil the Seven Hells out of it," I joked.

Tyrion gave a laugh pouring himself another glass of wine before coming over, "How was your day with Joffrey?"

"It was fair," I answered. "We went to the stables where horseflesh was being sold."

Tyrion nodded, "See any of interest?"

"Well, I was quite intrigued by one mare. A Friesian," I answered.

"What color coat?" Tyrion asked.

"Grey, with a few specks of white," I answered. "However, I know I don't need a horse, yet when I got a chance to ride her… I felt free."

Tyrion nodded, "Remember the first horse I got you."

I burst out laughing, "You mean Buttercup?"

"But you loved Buttercup," he said playfully.

Buttercup was a miniature horse Tyrion bought me when I was five. I was enthralled with horses, watching them from afar, and when I got a chance to be closer, feed them an apple with the Stable Master's assistance. However, I was too small to ride a horse. Father wouldn't let me until I was at least ten unless I was older with a guard riding behind me. So, Tyrion thought of purchasing a Miniature Horse from a nearby farm name Buttercup. He, along with the Stable Master, made a small saddle allowing me to ride. Even though the sight who considers hilarious.

Of course, riding Buttercup was short-lived as I grew taller, but having her as my pet was terrific. Unfortunately, Buttercup died from a health complication. She was my friend until I turn thirteen. By then, Father got me a new horse after several months. A Destrier, named Galahad. Sadly, Galahad had to go with the Lannister army, being Tybalt's assigned horse. I felt safe with Tybalt on a good horse.

Still, I enjoy riding. Joffrey did as well, the problem was I had no connection with the horses provided at the stable. However, I don't have money straight out of my pocket. Yes, I have an allowance. But after buying a wardrobe, it would be some time.

Tyrion came over as he sat back down.

"So, tell me, why was the council here?" I asked, plucking a grape and plopping it in my mouth.

Tyrion paused, thinking about before a grin crept his lips.

"I'm trusting the council with these plans, but the queen mustn't know," he answered proudly. "We can't have her meddling in affairs that could determine the future of the realm. There's too much at stake."

"Well, our sister tends to meddle in things she doesn't understand," I murmured, taking a sip of wine.

Tyrion nodded in agreement, "I'm brokering an alliance with House Tully of the Riverlands. Princess Myrcella will wed Edmure Tully when she comes of age, ensuring their loyalty and their army should we need it."

I spat out the wine back into the chalice, the alcohol burning my throat and nose, almost like I drank vinegar after hearing that. Did I hear correctly? Did Tyrion forge an alliance with House Tully? Last, I check, the Tully's have an alliance with House Stark since Eddard Stark married Holster Tully's eldest daughter Lady Catelyn. Let alone the fact of his age, Myrcella is only twelve.

"Isn't he like thirty, or old enough to be her father?" I asked, taking a napkin to wipe my lips. "Let alone the fact that House Tully has an alliance with House Stark. You are practically giving the Princess as a hostage. Hell, I probably have a better chance of converting the fool than she."

Tyrion couldn't help but laugh. He was practically laughing with hysteria as if he witnessed something hilarious. It took me a moment to realize I have fallen to one of his pranks. Scowling, I grabbed a grape and threw it at him. It bopped him in the head as he wiped the invisible tear.

"Apologies, I could not resist," he said, trying to catch his breath.

"There are times I want to smack you," I muttered. "You're lucky I love you, brother."

"I love you too, sweet sister," he replied, calming down a bit.

I rolled my eyes. In private with no one around, I can be unladylike. Tyrion would rather Tybalt and I be ourselves and not our Lannister façade.

"Now that you had your laugh, why was the Small Council here?" I asked.

"You promised not to tell Cersei," he inquired.

I nodded since the relationship I have with Cersei is limited. Then again, she is sixteen years older than I, and growing up, she had married and lived in King's Landing. It explains why I have a better relationship with Tyrion. Let alone, I still have my grudges since what happen when I was sixteen, and sabotaging my match with Renly Baratheon. Including the dress, she gave me when I arrived here and how she treated Tyrion several nights ago.

"As if I have anything to say to her," I replied, staring into his green eyes.

Tyrion stared at my hazel eyes, nodding in confirmation.

"I'm trying to find a possible mole in the Small Council. Cersei has been knowing things that she is not to know as Queen Regent," he explained.

"And you think one of the three is her mole," I concluded.

"And there are only three things Cersei values," he said. "Herself, her power, and her children."

"And since Joffrey is King and betrothed to Lady Sansa, and Tommen is only ten, you are using Myrcella," I noted.

Tyrion nodded again, "So each member a different candidate for Myrcella's hand. Cersei will be furious, and rush over lecturing me, saying who's Myrcella's betrothal is."

"Thus, exposing the mole," I finished, shaking my head. "And who are the candidates?"

"Trystane Martell, Theon Greyjoy, and Robin Arryn," he listed.

"You truly have a death wish," I said. "Cersei will have you poison if it is a Martell, castrated if it is Greyjoy, and…she might as well toss you out the window herself it is Arryn."

"I assure you; I will not have Myrcella marry Theon Greyjoy."

"And house Arryn? There's a rumor accusing our family of poisoning Jon Arryn? Let alone Lady Lysa is Catelyn Stark's sister."

"Yes, that is true."

"If you married Myrcella to Walder Frey, you be certainly dead."

Tyrion nodded, "As if I would marry our niece to that lecher."

I nodded in agreement. "Be careful. She is a lioness for a reason. And a mother lioness doesn't give up her cubs so easily."

I gave a sighed. Myrcella is twelve and is about to be betrothed. I'm about twenty-one, and I'm still not engaged or married yet. It was understandable Mother wanted me to wait to be a safe age for childbearing. And Mother married in her twenties as well. However, many ladies I know are married or about to have children. Hell, I was supposed to marry Renly by now.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm twenty, and I am not married yet," I answered sadly. "Cersei was eighteen when she wed."

"Well, Princess Arianne is not wed," he tried to reason.

"Well, her father is ensuring her husband won't overthrow the Martell name." I reminded. "And our father is finding me a husband whose house can be of use to Lannisters. If Cersei didn't fuck up for me betrothal to Renly, …we wouldn't have this war with the Baratheons. At least not with him, and just Stannis."

Tyrion nodded.

"And many lords are either too young or married already. I don't want to be a spinster."

"If it comes to the last resort, we have cousins."

I mentally thought about Alton. If only that was possible. In the end, Tywin Lannister will have the final say in who I marry. Either it is a pubescent or an old man. No matter what, I must fulfill my duty. I am a Lannister, and a Lannister must do everything to keep the legacy going.

"I will talk to father," Tyrion announced. "And see what potential suitors there are for you."

"You don't need to do that," I assured him.

"Nonsense, you are missing out on the pleasures of life."

I shuddered, knowing what he is referencing too.

Tyrion couldn't help but laugh to that, as he poured me a fresh glass of wine.

"To a spinster life and an early grave," he offered.

I chuckled slightly, clanging my glass to his before taking a sip.

**.o0o.**

_Tyrion's POV_

The following day Tyrion had returned from the stables after taking a look at the Friesian horse Lynette mentioned. Most horses of that breed are commonly black from his knowledge. But he could see why Lynette liked the grey mare. Despite the fact, he is not a fan of horses. Yes, Tyrion will ride a horse when necessary with his custom saddle, but he rather ride in a wagonhouse with a glass of wine in hand. In the end, he had purchased the horse at a reasonable price and will make it a surprise for his little sister.

Between Cersei and Lynette, Tyrion will choose Lynette every single time. The Little Lioness is the prime example of what a lady should be. As much as Tyrion would rather not have his sister married off to some boy or any man in that matter, he will keep a lookout for suitable suitors. Men who will worship Lynette and not treat her as a broodmare or abuse her.

The moment he entered the main room on his floor, he was greeted with, "You monster."

Ah yes, the mole has finally told Cersei. Now it was time to see who has told Cersei of her betrothal and seal his nieces' fate. Cersei stood center of the room furious. Her body was shaking as her green eyes were vibrant with rage. If glaring could kill, Tyrion would already be dead. She marched over to him.

"Myrcella is my only daughter," she seethed. "Do you really think I'll let you sell her like a common whore?"

Tyrion closed the door and remained on the steps to be even on height, "Myrcella's a princess. Some would say she was born for this."

"I will not let you ship her off to Dorne as I was shipped off to Robert Baratheon," she seethed, jabbing her finger into his chest.

_Ah, so Pycelle is the mole,_ Tyrion thought. He remained calm, "Dorne is the safest place for her."

"Are you mad?" she asked. "The Martells loathe us."

"That's why we need to seduce them," he reasoned. "We're going to need their support in the war your son started."

"She'll be a hostage," she growled.

"A guest," he corrected.

"You won't get away with this. You think a piece of paper Father gave you keeps you safe."

Tyrion gave her a warning look.

"Ned Stark had a piece of paper too," she threatened.

"It's done, Cersei," he concluded.

"No," she shook her head in denial, walking over to the table where his supper was set.

"You cannot stop it," he said.

"No!" she bellowed, knocking the plates and wine pitcher off the table, shattering on the floor.

Tyrion finds her tantrum unamusing as he came over, giving her a reality check, "Just how safe do you think Myrcella is if this city falls? Do you want to see her raped, butchered like the Targaryen children? Make no mistake. They'll mount her pretty little head on a spike right beside yours."

"Get out!" Cersei snapped, shoving Tyrion down. "Get out!"

She sat down, covering her face in dread.

Tyrion decided to do so. Thankful that Shae was working with Lady Sansa. As he left, he knew tomorrow he will have to write a letter to Prince Doran on Joffrey's behalf of this political match. Out of the three candidates, Tyrion is thankful it was Trystane Martell and not Theon Greyjoy or Robin Arryn. Saving his niece from being raped by the Iron Born or tossed out of the Moon Door by Lysa's hysteric moments.

At least he knows who the sky is.

**.o0o.**

_Lynette's POV_

There was a knock on the door when Tyrek answered it. He let the person in being none other than Tyrion. Tyrek Septa Margaret and I could hear shouting from upstairs. I knew what it meant. Cersei found out who Myrcella is going to marry. Not saying a word, I gestured him to sit down at the table to have a meal with us. He simply nodded, gathering his plate and ate in peace.

Nothing much was said. Tyrek talked about the latest gossip he had heard while running errands for me. After dinner was done, I excused Tyrek for the night. Meanwhile, Septa Margaret retired to her chambers. Before she did so, she helped me changed into my evening clothes before going to bed. I put on my robe and came out to check on Tyrion.

He sat in a chair holding a book that was provided in the apartment's library. He was in deep thought, contemplating what just happened. I poured myself a glass of water before coming over to sit down on the lounge in front of him. I stared at Tyrion after a few moments ensuring we were alone and no servants were in hearing.

"Who is it," I asked.

"Trystane Martell," he answered.

I nodded, taking another sip of wine, "Better someone near her age than a pervert or an immature boy."

"Agreed," he replied.

"Still, you dug yourself a deeper grave," I added.

"At least I have Myrcella in a safe place," he said. "Prince Doran is too honorable to harm Myrcella."

"The Martells are snakes, and there are two types of snakes, the ones who are poisonous and the ones who constrict until there is no air in their prey."

Tyrion only nodded, "It's rare to see Cersei so vulnerable. Was Lady Anne like that when you left?"

"My mother never let anger get the best of her. She was worried, but she knew I can make a difference here," I said.

"Even though it is safer at Casterly Rock?"

"No one is truly safe," I reminded.

Tyrion nodded.

Suddenly the door burst open as Petyr Baelish barged into my apartment.

"I don't appreciate being made a fool of, dwarf!" he bellowed. "If Myrcella marries the Martell boy, she can't very well marry Robin Arryn, can she?"

"No, afraid not. Sorry about that," Tyrion replied casually.

"And Harrenhal— I suppose that's off the table as well," Lord Baelish inquired.

"Yes, I fear so. Sorry about that, too." Tyrion said sarcastically.

"Leave me out of your next deceptions." The Master of Coin warned.

"Oh, that's a shame," Tyrion said. "You were to be the centerpiece of my next deception. My brother Jaime rots in a Northern stockade. I would see him released. That's where you come in."

"Robb Stark will never release the Kingslayer," Lord Baelish said.

"No, he won't. But his mother might. How would you like to see your beloved Cat again?"

Lord Baelish stared at him, confused as did I. What ploy is my brother playing at? I should take offense that Lord Baelish dared entered my apartment without permission. The only people I allow is my family. Otherwise, if it is a man, he will have to wait at the door until Septa Margaret is in the room to supervise us. Fortunately, Tyrion is here, except it is night time.

Footsteps approached as Bronn entered my room through the servant's private door. All of us stared at the sellsword, wondering what he is doing here.

"Find him?" Tyrion asked.

"Oh, aye. And he has company." Bronn answered, entering further. "Filthy old stoat. Almost hate to interrupt."

"No, you don't," Tyrion disagreed.

"No, I don't," Bronn agreed, as he left.

Lord Baelish and I faced Tyrion.

"Other than the unexpected company…who was your snitch?" I asked.

"Why Maester Pycelle," he answered.

I sighed, shaking my head before standing up, facing the Master of Coin, "Apologies for my brother's actions. It is wrong for him to make promises he cannot keep, even if it for the sake of the Kingdom."

Lord Baelish stared at me, his eyes slightly widen, realizing he intruded into my apartment and not Tyrion. He gave a courteous bow, "Apologies for my outburst and intrusion."

"All is forgiven," I murmured. "However, next time you enter my apartment without permission or visitation, I will have the guards escort you out."

"Of course, my lady." He said as he took my hand and kissed my knuckles.

"It is getting late," I murmured, lowering my hand. "Until next time."

"Good night, Lady Lynette," Lord Baelish said as he made his way out.

I sighed, turning around facing Tyrion arms crossed, "Don't use my apartment as a sanctuary again."

"Sorry about that," he apologized, standing up and walking over to me, resting a hand on my cross arms. "By the way, I have a gift for you."

"For what?" I asked.

"For lending me your ear and comfort," he answered. "Unfortunately, she is too big to come inside. But I'm sure you'll find her in the stables."

It took me a moment to realize what he meant, "You didn't."

He grinned, "I did, the finest show horse in the Kingdom. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a snitch to put on a spike. Sleep well, my sweet sister."

Tyrion walked the way through the servant's corridor where Bronn entered from. I watched him leave until he is out of sight with a smile. Pleased that Tyrion was removing the weakest link from the Council. No one really trusts that lecher. Hell, any time I need medical assistant, Septa Margaret would go find a Maester or healer to treat me. Either way, I will appreciate the horse tomorrow.

* * *

**Sorry for the wait.**

**Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!**


	11. Chapter 11: Abuse of Power

_**The Other Lannister Sister**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones**_

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**Chapter 11: Abuse of Power**

_Lynette's POV_

There was an impromptu gathering in the Throne Room. Curious, Septa Margaret, Tyrek, and I entered to see what it was all about. Wondering if Joffrey has news to tell the courtiers in the palace. Men and women had gathered around, as Joffrey sat on the Iron Throne, his crossbow in hand. I've also notice Cousin Lancel was here.

Lately, I barely get to see Lancel. He has been anointed as a knight and placed his services in working with the royal family. Tyrek has managed to talk to him and reported that Lancel has been in Maegor's Holdfast a lot, especially in the late hours of the night. This caught Septa Margaret's attention, wondering why a knight who isn't part of the Kingsguard be in the Royal quarters. Then again, with Cersei as Regent, she has placed more Lannister Soldiers throughout the castle than the actual Crowns soldiers.

Also, Tyrek had reported a messenger arrived from the Riverlands this morning. Could Joffrey be making an announcement about a possible battle that Father was in or any of the Lannister forces? The Riverlands, unfortunately, is a common ground where battles take place. A neutral area where there are resources of rivers and flatlands and forests. The Westerlands is primarily a rocky terrain before you could reach the fields, as is the Vale of Arryn. The Reach, well, the Reachmen make sure to settle disputes through melees and tournaments instead of battle. The Stormlands deal with weather as does the North, and Dorne, well, Dorn is hot as the Seven hells. Leaving the Riverlands the primary target to battle.

Including that Robb Stark is marching down as we speak with the assistance of his mother's family. The Tullys are a highly respected family. Lord Hoster Tully tries to reduce the conflict through a simply solution…marriage. His eldest daughters married to two great houses, while his son Edmure is eligible. Yet, from what I hear from gossip, Edmure has been defiant of his father's wishes on marriage, being just like his uncle, who goes by the nickname The Blackfish. Still, I have a feeling father is being careful and calculating against Hoster Tully and the Blackfish.

The doors open as Ser Meryn Trent had escorted Lady Sansa into the throne room with a few Lannister's soldiers. She appeared nervous as if she was dragged in from her private activities. Since the Lady Sansa has been under house arrest and can't leave her chamber without two Lannister soldiers. Usually kept under Cersei's acute watch. A daughter of a traitor.

She kneels down to her knees instead of a curtsy. Just as she was about to stand up, Joffrey order her to remain down. Her eyes watered from the tone, then horror as Joffrey stood up and raised his crossbow at the girl. What in the Seven is he doing? Lady Sansa Stark is his betrothed and a valuable pawn if negotiation of trade if possible.

She opens her mouth to ask what is going on when Joffrey interrupted her.

"You're here to answer for your brother's latest treasons," he said, still focusing the crossbow on her.

"Your Grace, whatever my traitor brother has done, I had no part." Lady Sansa pleaded. "You know that. I beg you—"

"Ser Lancel, tell her of his outrage," he interrupted.

Lancel stepped forward, approaching the frightened girl, "Using some vile sorcery, your brother fell on Stafford Lannister with an army of wolves. Thousands of good men were butchered. After the slaughter, the Northmen feasted on the flesh of the slain."

The crowd gasped, murmuring about the news. My stomach tightens when hearing this horrendous act. But something told me this was just a tactic to allure the people in supporting the Lannisters. There was no such thing as Sorcery. The Maesters tried to grasp a hold of it and could not master it. What magic that is was during the dark days till the age of dragons is gone now in Westeros. Other than alchemy that is.

Joffrey adjusted his crossbow, "Killing you would send your brother a message."

Lady Sansa began to cry, bowing her head as if accepting death.

"But my mother insists on keeping you alive," he concedes, lowering his weapon. "Stand."

Lady Sansa complied.

"So, we'll have to send your brother a message some other way," He said, sitting down on the Iron Throne. "Meryn."

Ser Meryn Tran stepped down from the steps and approached the young girl. I was confused, wondering what Joffrey was intending.

"Leave her face," Joffrey added. "I like her pretty."

Realizing what is about to happen, I told Tyrek to get Tyrion. Tyrek baffled by this ran out using the side door not to be noticed. There was nothing I could do while in public. My grasp of control on Joffrey isn't there yet. Four years ago, I had good control. However, Cersei must have plagued the boy on the ideals of power, instead of the responsibility.

Ser Meryn placed a hand on the girl's shoulder while his other hand formed a fist, punching her in the stomach. Lady Sansa gasped, bowing over, putting her arms over her abused torso, trying to defend herself. She cried, stumbling a bit, trying to avoid the next blow. Yet the Knight drew his sword and struck her on the back of the knees with the blunt side of the blade—the impact causing her to fall.

I inhale sharply, wanting to step forward to stop this madness, yet Septa Margaret kept a tight hold on my arm. This is not the chivalry of a knight, nor a Westermen knight. How Ser Barristan, King Robert, or any of the Kingsguard allowed this man to join their Brotherhood is beyond me. When Jaime returns, I will report this to him since he is the current Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

"Meryn, my lady is overdressed," Joffrey said, as he stood up and walked over to the steps. "Unburden her."

The dishonorable Knight came behind and ripped the bodice of the dress. Lady Sansa sobbed, trying to keep the front of her dress up.

"If you want Robb Stark to hear us, we're going to have to speak louder," Joffrey exclaimed.

Ser Meryn drew his sword again.

"What is the meaning of this?" Tyrion demanded.

All eyes turned to the door where Tyrion, Bronn, and Tyrek stood. The young squire panting from the sprint in fetching the Hand of the King. The two older men came over, while Tyrek walked around to join me. The crowd split as Tyrion, and his sellsword came over, standing beside Lady Sansa. Meanwhile, Ser Meryn sheathed his blade.

"What kind of knight beats a helpless girl?" Tyrion seethed.

"The kind who serves his king, Imp," Ser Meryn countered rudely.

"Careful, now. We don't want to get blood all over your pretty white cloak," Bronn warned.

"Someone gets the girl something to cover herself with," Tyrion said.

It was the Hound, Sandor Clegane, who removed his white cloak and wrapped it around the girl's shoulders. Meanwhile, Tyrion walked up the steps towards the throne and stared Joffrey in the eye.

"She is to be your queen." Tyrion scolded. "Have you no regard for her honor?"

"I'm punishing her," Joffrey said, with a tone.

"For what crime?" Tyrion asked. "She did not fight her brother's battle, you half-wit."

"You can't talk to me like that. The king can do as he likes," Joffrey whined, walking towards the throne.

Tyrion took another step up, "The Mad King did as he liked. Has your Uncle Jaime ever told you what happened to him?"

Joffrey sat down, glaring at his uncle.

Ser Meryn stepped forward hand on his sword, "No one threatens His Grace in the presence of the Kingsguard."

"I'm not threatening the king, ser. I am educating my nephew." Tyrion corrected the Knight as he glanced over to the sellsword. "Bronn, the next time Ser Meryn speaks, kill him."

Bronn stared at Ser Meryn as the dishonorable Knight returns the gaze with caution.

"That was a threat. See the difference?" Tyrion sarcastically asked.

He then walked down the steps, walking over to Lady Sansa, offering a hand. The fiery girl stared at him, stunned before accepting his hand as he helped her up on her feet. My brother leads the way out as they silently held a conversation. No doubt, Tyrion apologizing on Joffrey's behalf. Once at the doors, the ladies came to the girl to guide her back to her chambers to rest.

I was genuinely disappointed in what has transpired. I thought I was dealing with something of entitlement, not…brutality. How can Cersei let her son become like this? I cannot blame Joffrey's behavior on his father. If Joffrey was like his father, he is competing in tournaments and fucking his way around. Not having his men to assault a young girl. This vindictive seemed what Cersei could only dream of, thinking about it in her mind. And Joffrey being a male, has the authority and capability to act on it.

I will have to write this down and send a raven to Father. This is one assignment he gave me that I don't think I'm capable of conforming to Joffrey with ease. Once the crowd dispense and Joffrey left with his Kingsguard, I walked over to Lancel.

"Ser Lancel," I greeted.

The young Knight turned around with a smile, "Lady Lynette."

"If I didn't know any better, I say you've been avoiding me," I teased.

"Never, I've been occupied in serving his majesty," Lancel assured with a smile.

"Such loyalty will make you a Kingsguard," Tyrek said.

"Careful, we don't want Uncle Kevon to hear," I teased.

Tyrek and Lancel laughed.

"My father would definitely have my head if I became a white cloak," Lancel agreed.

I then became serious, "You mentioned Robb Stark attacked Ser Stafford…your brothers…?"

"Martyn and Willem were not at the Battle of Oxcross," Lancel informed. "Stafford had them sent to deliver a message to Harrenhal."

Lancel was relieved that his younger brothers were safe.

"I'm glad to hear that," I said. "They are so young in becoming squires."

"Better learn young, not the same mistake for me," Lancel sighed.

Lancel became a squire late in his adolescents since Ser Kevon felt he was not ready to take the next step and a long period of being a page. Willem and Martyn were pages for a time while inside Casterly Rock serving their father and Ser Damion. Now they are squires being passed around to serve—their status of being in the head family, the second-highest branch.

"That reminds me, Janei wants you to write to her," I said. "She misses her big brother."

Lancel chuckled, "I'll make sure to send a letter at once."

I smiled softly, "We should spend some time together when you have a chance."

"Could use a spar," Tyrek added.

"Still holding some resentment towards your betrothed," Lancel asked.

Tyrek made a face. Still not pleased that he is engaged to a bride who is still a babe. Let alone having to wait thirteen years to be married. Then again, men have the pleasures of going out and fondling around while women are held to a higher standard. Our virtues are a prize that needed to be intact. If there is no maidenhead during the consummation, the groom and his family would feel cheated. Yes, there have been cases of women whose hymen broke do to horse riding. But as mother stated, a virgin bride holds more value than a used one. Men have it easy since they don't need to be wed to have sex.

I sighed, for I hear the gossip, and I fear I will be a spinster or married at an old age when I can't bear children. Ever since arriving at King's Landing, my attention has been on Joffrey to influence the Lannister beliefs. Correcting as much as I can before Father returns to take his place as Hand of the King.

"Enough, be nice both of you," I lectured playfully.

"All right, how about we do some training tomorrow," Lancel offered to Tyrek.

"Really?" Tyrek asked to be sure.

Lancel nodded with a smile. Tyrek couldn't help but grin. He could use the practice since I am no swordsmen. Tybalt taught me a few tricks with the sword, but it not the same as a real swordsman. Either way, Tyrek deserves some quality time than following me around and listening to gossip.

Tyrion made his way over. Before my brother could even speak, Lancel gave a bow before leaving. Tyrion noticed this, and by his expression was making a mental note.

"I appreciate in what you did," Tyrion said softly to me.

"And what was that?" I asked.

"Sending Tyrek," Tyrion answered, then looked at the squire. "I swear you are fast."

"It is a talent," Tyrek said proudly.

"A talent to run with your cock between your legs," Bronn said.

Septa Margaret cleared her throat. Bronn realizing a religious woman was in his presence, blushed, looking down.

"Sorry, Septa," Bronn apologize.

"Mind your tongue in the presence of ladies," Septa Margaret lectured.

Bronn merely nodded, holding his tongue.

Tyrion stepped in as he faced me, "I need you to be careful. I did not anticipate this."

"Neither did I," I agreed, then glanced at the Iron Throne.

I seriously have my hands full, and one mistake could leave an arrow through me.

**.o0o.**

_Tybalt's POV_

Father, our company, and I rode into Harrenhal during the morning hours. The scent of burning flesh filled the air when we passed the gate. Father scowled, when noting this, for he had given the order to collect the villagers to gain information and put them to work, not slaughter them. Many things can displease father, and one of them is disobeying a direct order.

If I recall correctly, Ser Gregor Clegane, the Mountain, was in charge of this area. At first, Ser Gregor brutality has been useful when it comes to battles and melees. However, when the wars are done, it takes a lot to satisfy the man. Father tries his best to keep his Knight in check, even after Lady Catelyn took Tyrion, father sent the Mountain to rampage the villages in the Riverlands. Until Lord Eddard sent Ser Beric Dondarrion and a hundred men after him, after stripping the Knight his rank and titles, lands and holdings, and sentences him to death. A hundred and one men went after the Mountain, and none survive.

Father continued to have Ser Gregor to raid the villages while setting up base in Harrenhal. Apparently, these past few months, there has been a group of men called the Brotherhood without Arms attacking out forces in the dead of night. Father had believed Ser Gregor could handle this, but seeing the piles of bodies says something differently.

Things have not been good, after the battle of Oxcross when Robb Stark and his Northerners attacked during the night. Father had to summon the War Council to Harrenhal to discuss new strategies. But seeing the villagers and prisoners being coral-like animals and tortured does not set the standards. A Lannister will do what it means necessary to win, but we know slaughtering the common folk won't get the job done.

Father and I approached the event of prisoners watching a man about to be tortured. Two soldiers came over, taking hold of our horses while the Mountain stepped forward, greeting us.

"What's this?" Tywin asked.

"We weren't expecting you till tomorrow, Lord Tywin," Ser Gregor replied.

Father and I got off our horses.

"Evidently not," Tywin chuckled before removing his gloves staring at the prisoners. "Why are these prisoners not in the cells?"

"Cells are overflowing, my lord," Ser Gregor explained.

I stared at the prisoners in the stock, seeing merely children and adolescents, and elderly women. I know we are at war, but this …isn't this a bit too much. One of the men-at-arms, name Polliver, came over.

"This lot won't be here long," Polliver said. "Don't need no permanent place. After we interrogate 'em, we usually just…"

Father walked around, examining the prisoners until facing Polliver, "Are we so well-manned that we can afford to discard able bodies and skilled laborers?"

Polliver remained quiet, probably realizing a waste he did. I stood by the fool, as Father walked over to a man who was strapped to a chair. He appeared to be late teens or just turn twenty, with dark cropped hair and blue eyes. His arms seemed to be muscular, that this man has a type of physical skill. Father faced the man.

"You, do you have a trade?" Tywin asked.

The young man was hesitant as he answered, "Smith, my lord."

I saw some movement from the corner of my eye, a child staring at Polliver, mainly the sword strapped to his waist. The child leaning forward, yet their hands were bound. It took me a moment; for a second, the child appears to be a boy with short dark hair and ragged clothing. Yet the structures on the boy's face seemed feminine. A girl. A girl dressed as a boy.

"What are you looking at?" Polliver demanded, reaching to smack her. "Kneel!" then drew his blade at her. "Kneel, or I'll carve your lungs out, boy."

The girl's eyes widen as she stumbled back.

"You'll do no such thing," I ordered then stared at the prisoner. "This one's a girl, you idiot, dressed as a boy."

Father was impressed as he came over while Polliver lowers his blade down. The Head of House Lannister then asked, "Why?"

She paused, then looked at us, "Safer to travel, my lord."

Tywin nodded, "Smart." Then side glance at Polliver, "More than I can say for this lot. Get these prisoners to work." He started to walk away. "Bring the girl. I need a new cupbearer."

"My lord," Ser Gregor obliged.

I stayed behind to ensure that the soldiers put the prisoners to work. Having the women put on kitchen duty, the men repairing Harrenhal, and those with trade doing their craft. Afterward, I escorted the girl inside. She appeared to be in her prepubescent, with dark hair and grey eyes—her clothes gone through the muck. I made a mental note to ensure she is given a bucket of water to wash, and clothes tended to.

"What's your name, girl?" I asked.

She stared at me, cautiously. Not that I could blame her after being captured and witness her people being tortured over nonsense. After a moment, she answered, "Arry."

"Well, Arry, you are fortunate that Lord Tywin and I came just in time," I said.

"Your men were about to kill my friend," she muttered.

"Something I will need to fix, I assure you," I promised. "Information is important, yet idiots can't tell between a donkey and a mule."

Her brown scrunched together, shaking her head.

"None of the men will harm you, as long as you cooperate," I warned her. "Being a cupbearer is the safest position right now. No one will harm you. The last thing anyone wants is to displease the Great Lion of Casterly Rock."

Arry only nodded as I escorted her to the kitchen. The staff that was already there stared at me, as the women in charge of cooking came up.

"Lord Tybalt, what can I do for you?" the older woman asked.

"Make sure Miss Arry is freshened up. She has been assigned as my father's cupbearer." I instructed.

"Of course, sir," she said. "Come, child."

"Wait, you're Tywin's son?" Arry asked in disbelief. "I thought you were a squire."

I gave a laugh, "No, I'm a lieutenant in my father's council." I then claimed my composure, giving a bow for respect. "If you'll excuse me. I have work to do."

With nothing else to say, I left the kitchen to join my father. I have a feeling Arry has more secrets up her sleeves. Especially when a young girl decided to dress up as a boy and travel through a war territory. I've noticed some of the men had some black accessories. Possibly a group of volunteers heading towards the Wall to take the Black for the Night's Watch. I will be talked to my father about it later.

As I walked through the castle's corridors. Harrenhal, the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms on the north shore of the Gods Eye Lake. If I recall my history correctly, it was built in the year 2 BC by King Harren Hoare, also known as King Harren Black, the last of the Kings of the Isles and Rivers to rule over the Iron Islands and Riverlands. He built a fortress, impregnable. Having five towers, and tall battlements, to make it impossible for a siege. Maybe it would have been the perfect fortress on the ground, but never for the sky.

When Aegon the Conqueror came, he offered King Harren a chance to bend the knee and serve him as warden. The man refused. Aegon collected Harren's enemies to gather around before he took off to the sky on Balerion the Dread and burn King Harren and his family alive. There was a saying nothing can melt stone, except for Dragonfire. The castle took on charred and melted in certain areas. One of the few remaining pieces of evidence that dragons existed. For if you dare take a breath, you can still smell the sulfur from the dragon's flame within the stone. House Hoare went extinct, and Harrenhal a ruin.

Many lords have been passed on assigned claimed for Harrenhal since it is rich fertile lands, which reaches the far hills of House Wode near the Crownlands. Along with Harrentown. However, the Castle is massive, that not even a garrison could maintain it. Along with a curse. Whoever owns legal ownership of Harrenhal shall receive misfortune. As the ghosts who fell victim to Aegon and the spirits of the dead wander these halls.

The last event that ever happened here was in 281 AC. When the famous tournament happened during the false spring. Where Prince Rhaegar was crowned champion, and Jaime was knighted and named to the Kingsguard by the Mad King. And from what I've been told, the tourney is when Prince Rhaegar gave the crown of winter roses for the Queen of Love and Beauty, ignored his wife, and gave the floral crown to Lyanna Stark.

A year later, Rhaegar kidnapped Lady Lyanna, who was betrothed to Robert Baratheon that started the rebellion. And the end to the Targaryen Dynasty, including the rise of House Lannister.

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**Tybalt is back!**

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